A Thief In Armor
by myvantage84
Summary: Talen is recruited for a mission of great import while Sparhawk deals with deranged elder gods and a dark conspiracy. An adventure that takes place after the Tamuli centering around Talen, Sparhawk, Danae & Co.
1. Ten Years After

Note: I don't own any characters from the Elenium/Tamuli David and Leigh Eddings do.

please read and review :)

Chapter 1: 10 years after the events of the Tamuli

Murky, heavy clouds hung from an overcast sky over the Pandion chapter house in Demos. The obscured sun, however, left enough light for training and drills among the stark buildings that surrounded the practice fields.

"You're still positioning your feet wrong!"

Talen rolled his eyes skyward. Re-adjusting his position, he sighed and shifted his weight further to the right.

"Hmm…That's a little better" Berit growled.

"Remind me why I'm doing this again?" Talen asked.

"You never know when you may be disarmed and have access to a less than ideal weapon, which is why you need to have familiarity with all of them" Berit droned.

Talen cursed inwardly. Didn't the man ever learn the meaning of a rhetorical question?

"Besides, Khalad insisted." Berit continued.

Talen lowered the ax he was holding and stared at the grinning Pandion. "Khalad's idea?" That was typical, Khalad was the Pandion preceptor. The Pandion Knights may hold him in high regard, but at this moment he was Talen's least favorite person. It seemed like the preceptor, who also happened to be Talen's half brother, spent all his spare time thinking up new and inventive ways to ruin Talen's life. Hence, the ax lesson with Berit. Not that Talen minded Berit teaching him a couple of things, but Pandion ax adept took the training very seriously, and Talen felt a full three months of learning a weapon he would probably never use was a colossal waste of time. However, he held his tongue, Berit was an old friend, and was very good with his ax.

Talen reset his position being careful not to favor his left. Berit gave a slight nod and brought up his ax in an underhand swipe. Talen blocked and parried wielding his ax in the short, arched strokes that Berit had been teaching him. The ax master moved with the professional grace borne of several years study with the Cyrinic Knights. Berit obviously held back for Talen's sake, but kept a brisk enough pace to keep Talen at the steep end of the learning curve. Teacher and pupil dueled back and forth until Berit was finally satisfied.

"Adequate, but you still favor your left" Berit nodded his approval.

"Yeah, I'll work on it." Talen answered, absently tossing his ax back and forth between his left and right hands.

Berit winced "Didn't I ask you not to do that, Talen?" he asked

"Ah… sorry, Berit"

Berit placed two fingers against his suddenly aching temple. "Same time tomorrow?" he said looking across at his student.

"Yeah, I'm going in. The smell of this rust pile is making me dizzy."

"Armor, Talen, its called armor"

Talen took off toward the dorms of the chapter house and made his way to his own small room and pulled of his armor. Like all the quarters of the Pandions Knights, the tiny space was only large enough to accommodate a thin cot, an oak desk and lamp stand. Talen's room wasn't exactly the most tidy. He had stacks of pads with drawings of faces and places in addition to various odds and ends of differing value strewn about. Deciding to forgo the bathhouse he crossed the room to a basin filled with fresh water and studied his face in the small mirror hanging above it.

It had been ten years since he entered his novitiate, Talen was a score and six years now. He had filled out in the intervening years, and muscles bunched and flexed as he washed his sweaty face. His skin was slightly prickly beneath his fingers; but fortunately he didn't have the obnoxiously stubborn beard that his brothers did, so he didn't have to shave as often. Talen frowned at the dark circles underneath his eyes. He was not vain, but he did have four brothers who would climb all over each other like crabs in a barrel to tell their mothers that Talen was not getting enough rest.

Most people had only one mother to pester and smother them with care, but Talen had two, due to his father's indiscretions, and both Aslade and Elys were fiercely overprotective, especially concerning Talen, who was the youngest of the five boys. Talen sighed pulling back his wealth of hair. Unlike his brothers who all had their father Kurik's coarse black hair, Talen had his mother's light brown locks. Despite Talen's better judgment, his hair nearly reached his shoulders. All thanks to an impish little princess. Talen smiled to himself, he would figure out how Danae had won that little bet, he was sure that the courtier had been roaring drunk! Either way, a deal was a deal, and the young princess had insisted he honor the bet by growing his hair out. Talen had no idea why Danae would have any interest in the length of his hair, but then again women did things for obscure reasons.

Quickly changing into non-descript street clothes, Talen grabbed a long black robe and pulled it on. Satisfied that he was fully covered, he took his dagger and sheathed it down his boot. To be on the safe side, he grabbed another dagger from under his bed and slipped it in a holster on his belt and turned to leave for the hall. His hand pausing on the knob, Talen reached above his doorframe and grabbed an additional dagger, slipping it inside his left sleeve. Then he left for evening sermon.

As he walked down the hall, a light touch on his elbow caused Talen to turn. He paused to let Kyyis, another one of his older brothers, catch up with him. He was about a year and a half older than Talen and the brother he was closest to. Kyyis constantly pulled practical jokes on their older brothers and Talen always found a way to help, and more often than not, get in trouble. Kyyis had his father's coarse black hair and sported a neatly trimmed beard. Both young men had entered their novitiate at the same time and ended up becoming closer as they trained for knighthood.

"You look like you could pass for a raccoon, Talen." Kyyis said, noting the dark circles around Talen's eyes.

"You try training with an ax adept"

"Berit's training is not that tough." Kyyis scoffed.

"No, not really" Talen said resignedly, "It's just a lot of extra work on top of the usual drills."

"Ah well, you can catch up on sleep during Nuris' sermon. Kyyis shrugged.

"Nuris is giving the sermon again? That's the third time this week."

"Perhaps the Knights enjoy his invigorating sermons so much they requested that he return."

Talen snorted "The only invigorating thing about Nuris' sermon is the hour-long nap I'll take during it."

"Well… you aren't the only one that needs to catch up on some sleep…"Kyyis said yawning.

Both young men laughed as the made their way across the courtyard and practice fields to attend chapel.

"Seriously though, Talen you should take a night off, your men know how to take care of business without your supervision."

"I can't tonight, there's something going on that I can't put my finger on and I won't get any rest until I know what it is. Better to pick up what I can off the streets then lie awake all night and worry."

"You mean that business with those Arjuni mercenaries? Has there been any sign of them?" Kyyis asked.

"No, but they could come back."

Kyyis grimaced as he thought about another late night trailing after his brother.

"You don't have to come if you don't want too."

"Who else is going to keep an eye on you?"

It was a bright, warm morning outside the palace in the capital city of Cimmuria. The day marked a break from the stretch of rain showers that marked the start of the spring season. Water drops still clung to the newly budded birch trees surrounding the inner courtyard of the palace.

The balcony doors were throw open in the Prince Consort's study allowing the errant breeze to blow in hundreds of pale white petals shed by the shifting trees. Sparhawk idly leafed through the annual report from Elenia's district governors and waited as his daughter sat across from him staring out the window. Despite his age, Sparhawk was extremely well- preserved. His nose was still broken and his hair sported some extra grey, but the big Pandion was as fit and trim as he had been ten years ago. Sparhawk had his private suspicions concerning his improved vigor and those suspicions were sitting in a chair across from him quietly combing her dark hair.

From the semi-comatose expression she wore, Sparhawk concluded that his daughter was also probably somewhere else. He took some time to study her; she was ten and six years now, but still quite petite. Her long, dark brown hair fell to her waist as she absently drew her comb through it. Sparhawk could detect similarities between the Styric goddess Aphrael's adult form and the young woman who sat before him, but neither looked exactly alike, more like closely related. She wrinkled her nose and turned toward him.

"Where were you just now?" he asked.

"Well Father, I was right here. I am pretty sure you could see me, unless old age has started affecting your eyesight," she said tartly.

"Be nice," Sparhawk said crossing the room and kissing her lightly on the forehead.

Danae smiled absently and muttered and apology.

"So what were you doing?" he pressed.

She sighed "If you must know I was sitting in on one of the Thousand's gatherings"

"And?"

"I don't trust it; something about Shendar rubs me the wrong way"

"He's the over-priest, right?" Sparhawk said trying to recall the man.

"Priestess, actually, Shendar's a woman; and they haven't made her over-priestess yet" Danae said, a touch anger in her voice.

"Will there be trouble?" Sparhawk asked, noting her reaction.

"I can't really be sure, it's too early to predict, but there is something there."

"A hunch?" asked Sparhawk half-smiling. Danae laughed at the shared joke when both heard a knock at the door.

"Enter, friend" Sparhawk answered.

The guard at the door opened it and admitted Ensen, the nephew of Lenda, who had recently fallen ill. Ensen was filling Lenda's place in the Queen's privy counsel while the old earl recovered. His nephew hailed from the southern tip of Elenia but lived for the past several years in Cheryllos where he managed a large estate. Bowing floridly, he winked at Danae and turned to Sparhawk, who repressed an urge to smile. The only traits Ensen shared with his uncle were his keen intelligence and twinkling blue eyes. The young man was urbane, witty and quite popular with the ladies around the castle.

"G'day Prince Sparhawk, and princess, ye look as lovely as ever today, surely the moon hid her face when she b'held ye beauty!"

"Poetry, Ensen?" she said, wincing slightly. Ensen irritated Sparhawk's daughter to no end. She had tried to explain why to him, but Sparhawk had gotten lost when she started talking about sound waves and pitch frequencies. Ehlana had clarified when she noticed Danae's aversion to the new earl, confiding to Sparhawk that Danae loathed Ensen's accent. Sparhawk smiled, his wife was probably still drowsing, the counsel meeting had gone quite late into the night, and she required adequate rest to keep her wits sharp. Sparhawk's pale, lovely queen was no political amateur.

"Did ye read through the district reports yet, mate?" he asked Sparhawk, talking a seat next to the miserable looking Danae. Sparhawk looked back at the thick packet of reports he left on his desk.

"I leafed through it a bit" Sparhawk hedged, returning to the papers. "Why, did you notice something in there of concern?"

"Aye, that I did mate," he said; a slightly somber note in his usual jovial tone. Sparhawk nodded for him to go on.

"I dinnae want to bring it up during the meeting, but there's a right strange pattern in these reports. Now mate, I dinnae know if p'haps I've just been trying to pin down shadows. I wasn't here last year to analyze the trends and this could be quite usual…"

"But?" asked Sparhawk.

"It's the export shipping records for our wheat from last year's harvest." Ensen began. "I noticed a small amount in the Caliga district was being shipped directly to Sarsos." he said frowning.

"The people living in Sarsos need to eat, too Ensen." Danae pointed out.

"I understand princess, but Sarsos be an entire continent away. Surely they can find food closer to home, right love? Shipping wheat in from oversees dinnae make no sense, it's too expensive to sell or turn any profit with."

"You have a good point, Ensen." Sparhawk said gravely.

"That not be it mate, once I noticed the wheat in Caliga, I looked for unusual shipments from the rest of the districts…"

"And what did that turn up?" asked Danae, her interest piqued.

"Several other districts are shipping goods that Sarsos dinnae need. Small amounts, to be sure, but what would Sarsos need with lumber being right next to the forest?"

"How many districts are doing this?" Sparhawk asked.

"From what I counted mate, there be a dozen out a score of districts."

Sparhawk and Danae exchanged puzzled looks. "What do you make of this Ensen?" Sparhawk asked.

Ensen sighed "I'm not at all sure, mate. What I really need is the previous year's reports to compare it to. It may be nothing, some kinde fluke. I dinnae want to bring it directly to queen Ehlana until I was sure I knew what I was talking about."

Sparhawk looked at Ensen and his daughter. "Maybe we should try some logic," Sparhawk said standing as he began to pace up and down his study. Danae gave a barely perceptible sigh.

"Here's what we do know: several Elene districts are shipping out goods to Sarsos. However, Sarsos doesn't really need anything that is actually being shipped." He paused. "Possibly that means they are using the shipments to cover something else they are doing?"

"Smuggling?" Ensen suggested.

"We'll keep that in mind," said Sparhawk, "But that doesn't address why it's so widespread. Normally smuggling is concentrated"

"And, it's difficult to hide things in such small shipments," Danae pointed out.

"Also whoever is behind this wanted the shipments to seem ordinary, even trivial…" she continued.

"Aye, that they do, if it hadn't been for the Caliga wheat shipments, I may have missed the whole thing. Ye reports are a bit tedious, mate." Ensen said looking meaningfully at Sparhawk's large pile. Sparhawk looked guiltily down at the district reports; he would have to read them more thoroughly from now on.

"Should we take it to the queen then?" asked Ensen.

Sparhawk nodded. "The shipments may or may not be significant, but I will feel better about it when we get to the bottom of it."


	2. The Deiran Connection

Note: I don't own any characters from the Elenium/Tamuli, David and Leigh Eddings do.

Please read and review, pretty please...even if you don't like it. (but I'm sure of course, everyone loves my work ;)

Chapter 2: The Deiran connection

An evening storm had quickly overtaken Cheadin; a small town located three leagues from the Pandion Chapter house. Talen leaned against a closed store front with his dark hooded cloak obscuring his face as he waited for Kyyis to finish stabling their horses. Kyyis was always careful with the mounts, and Talen was sure his brother would find a suitable place protected from the elements.

Talen was practically invisible to any who happened to be looking. Despite the fact that he was now a grown man, the sneaking skills from his childhood had not diminished. In addition to what he learned growing up as a thief on the streets of Cimmura, he utilized various Styric spells. Right now, he used a relatively simple spell to alter the light around him so that he blended in to the entrance of the closed store front.

Talen was one of the youngest Pandions to achieve Mastery of the secrets of Styricum. He had difficulty the first two years while he learned to read and write in Styric, but once he learned the language, Talen had an incredible knack for memorizing the spells and the accompanying gestures required. He had surpassed his tutor within four years of his novitiate. The Styric had shook his head and dubbed the young Pandion 'loved by the gods'. Talen smiled as he thought of the child goddess Aphrael. The remark may not have been to far off.

A movement to Talen's right brought his head up. Kyyis was making his way to the storefront, running to their pre-arranged meeting spot in order to get out of the rain. Despite running, Talen's brother was already soaked.

"Talen? Where are you?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Right here," Talen said turning to him. "Why are you letting yourself get wet?" he asked puzzled.

"Why? Because it's raining if you haven't noticed!" Kyyis said, slightly out of breath. He looked Talen up and down and started grimacing.

"You couldn't just cast whatever spell you're using to keep me dry, could you?" Kyyis growled in an offended tone.

"I thought you knew that one," Talen said, grinning sardonically as he began incanting a spell that would quickly dry off his brother.

"Come on," Talen said taking off to the Boarshead tavern with Kyyis following. The two men moved furtively from one overhanging building to another.

Talen had been apprehensive about bringing his brother into the other side of his life, but Kyyis had proven more than capable of keeping up with him. For Talen it was nice to have someone he trusted watching his back. Talen no longer stole material goods, at least not regularly, but had found that information and secrets far more valuable and infinitely easier to carry. To that end, Talen had kept in regular touch with the thieves, whores, and pickpockets in Cheadin during the nights while he trained in the day. It left him frequently exhausted but the cost of a dual life was beginning to pay off.

The Boarshead came into view shortly, and like most taverns on the seedier side of town, the building was so dilapidated that it would probably topple over if a strong enough wind blew. A wooden sign with a faded rendition of a pig and a tankard of beer hung over the entrance with sounds of brawling and revelry spewing out like an overflowing outhouse.

"Boar's head…how incredibly original, I hope the owner didn't strain himself thinking up that one." Kyyis commented dryly.

"Fortunately for him originality isn't a necessary virtue for selling beer." Talen observed.

"What business do you have evaluating anyone's virtue?" Kyyis said, raising an eyebrow.

Talen smiled mischievously "I stick to _my_ principles, it's everyone else's I take issue following."

Kyyis just shook his head. Sidestepping a couple of drunken patrons who were attempting to find their beds, the young men made their way into the dimly lit tavern. A large fire was going at one end with some type of unidentifiable meat roasting on a spit. The Boarshead was filled to overflowing with customers, this particular tavern did a very brisk business, which was one of the reasons it had been chosen for tonight's meeting. Spying that his usual back table had been taken, Talen walked over to the tavern's owner, Mahogan, a big, burly man with a large face and an even larger beard. His menacing scowl fell when he saw Talen and his mouth split in to a wide grin. Coming out from around the bar counter, he greeted the young man.

"Ho there boy, I haven't seen you in many moons!" he said, jovially giving Talen a friendly slap on the back which nearly doubled the young knight over. "I see you've got company" he said indicating Kyyis with a nod.

Talen straighten slowly, refusing to give the snickering Kyyis any more ammunition by rubbing his back.

"Aye, that's my brother Kyyis" Talen answered, wincing slightly.

"Nice to meet you! Any friends of Talen's are more than welcome at my establishment." Mahogan boomed treating Kyyis to the same back-splintering slap he gave Talen. It was his turn to laugh as Kyyis rubbed his shoulder, grimacing in pain.

"It seems like business is booming" Talen remarked.

"That it is boy," Mahogan said, looking around the tavern with pleased expression evident on his face. "That little rumor you dropped about my brew being better and cheaper than Luriche's has brought in all kinds of patronage. Soon I'll be looking to expand my establishment!"

"Aye, seems like you can definitely use it, this place is filled to the brim," Kyyis noted still rubbing his throbbing shoulder.

Mahogan clapped his hands together and grinned. "Why don't you boys go on upstairs? I got a room free, and I'll have one of my wenches send you up some tankards." Mahogan whistled shrilly and an attractive, dark-haired woman swished her way over to the young men.

"Walena take these boys upstairs," Mahogan instructed. "Get them whatever they want -- on the house."

The dark haired woman gave the young men a sensuous smile, and tipped her head toward the stairs. Talen elbowed his brother sharply in the ribs, startling Kyyis from his acute observation of Mahogan's wench.

"Don't get any ideas," Talen hissed. "We're here on business, not pleasure."

"I'm just looking Talen, there isn't any law against observing God's lovely creation right?" Kyyis whispered.

Talen rolled his eyes as they followed Walena upstairs.

"Right here young masters" she said opening the door to a small chamber set with a table and several plush chairs.

"Thank you little sister," said Talen. "Could you do me a favor?" he asked the dark haired woman. She nodded in acquiescence.

"I'm waiting on some friends to meet me here; they go by the names Peraul and Qyndal, one's really husky and the other one's as thin as a rail. Could you send them up when they come?" Talen asked handing the woman a copper coin. Walena agreed and left to get the men's drinks.

"Why did you call that wench little sister?" Kyyis asked as he sat down on one of the cushioned chairs and propped his leg against the edge of the table.

Talen shrugged. "It's an affection I picked up from Sparhawk."

Kyyis knit his eyebrows. "I find it hard to believe that a former preceptor would frequent this type of place."

"There's a lot of things you missed while you were on the farm." Talen teased, as he took a seat across from his brother.

"Sure, instead of learning how to do useful things, I could've been learning all the intricacies of begging, stealing, and running from the law." Kyyis responded coolly.

"Beats digging up rutabagas" Talen said under his breath. The glare Kyyis gave him, however, was a fair indication Talen's comment had been heard.

Before Kyyis could respond, Walena returned, drawing all his attention. Talen's men Peraul and Qyndal followed her in.

Talen waved his hand indicating for the men to sit. Walena set down several tankards and took her leave, discreetly closing the door behind her.

"Hullo Boss" Peraul greeted Talen in his deep toned voice. Peraul was a large, heavy set man with crisscrossing scars twisting up his arms. He was clean shaven but harbored a dark and somber expression. He took a seat in one of the remaining chairs, and his partner Qyndal took another vacated chair. Qyndal was lanky young man who had an open, honest face and friendly disposition. Qyndal grabbed the nearest tankard and began drowning it noisily. Smacking his lips when he was done, he earned reproachful glances from Kyyis and Peraul. Not in the least perturbed, Qyndal turned toward Talen.

"Ah, now that's the best way to slack your thirst! Right there, boss?" he said, grinning widely at Talen, who was not having an easy time repressing his laughter at the man's antics.

"If you say so Qyndal, but why don't you slack my thirst for knowledge? What did you found out about those Arjuni mercenaries?" Talen said pulling out a heavy purse.

Qyndal was suddenly all business as he eyed Talen's purse greedily. "Let's see some silver first, for all I know you could be carrying sand in there."

Talen picked up his purse and pulled out several silver pieces. Qyndal's eyes narrowed. "We agreed on twice that amount before, Talen."

"I know," Talen said, spread out the silver on the table in plain sight of Qyndal and Peraul. "Half is for now and you'll get the other half if the information is worth it."

"Fine." Qyndal said scooping up the silver. Talen leaned back as he listened to Qyndal's report.

"We found out the one of the mercenary's names; it's Lefiet."

"That's not an Arjuni name." Talen protested.

"No it's not, actually, this Lefiet is originally from Deira"

"Go on."

"Apparently he's connected with the Deiran royal family somehow; he was wearing the coat of arms and a signet ring on his person. The Arjuni mercenary business was a deception."

"That still doesn't tell me why he was in Cimmuria." Talen frowned turning over the new development.

"He was trying to contact someone. We found a note in his coat, I copied it." Qyndal said pulling out a piece of paper.

Talen nodded. "Any thing else?" he asked scanning the note. The lanky young man shook his head, and Talen poured the rest of the contents of his purse on the table. Qyndal took the rest of the money and nodded toward Peraul, who had been silent for most of the meeting. The two men exited leaving Talen to stew over the latest bit of information. He leaned back in his chair and produced his favorite gold coin out of thin air, spinning it idly around the finger as her read carefully through the transcribed note.

"What does it say?" Kyyis asked.

"It says: We must meet, in one fortnight, the usual place. Bring my cousin from Cimmuria, there has been a change of plan." Talen read. "It's signed Lefiet," he continued. "This Lefiet character is from Deira; who do we know from there?" Talen asked Kyyis.

"Well," Kyyis said, his brows furrowing, "Darrellion's still the preceptor of the Alcione Knights, and there's always sir Tynian…"

"Both of which rarely come to visit, except maybe to see Sparhawk and…"

Talen's fingers stopped, his gold coin mid-spin, as he was struck by a realization.

"Kyyis, Ehlana's half Deiran"

"Really? I didn't know that." Kyyis shrugged, taking a long draught of his tankard. What's the point?" he asked.

"Ehlana's mother was a Deiran princess," Talen said, slowly resuming the spinning of his gold coin as he drummed the fingers of his other hand on the table. "Lefiet is connected somehow to the Deiran royal family. Ehlana may know something about him or this so-called cousin."

"Let me guess. You want to go to Cimmuria to pick the Queen's mind?" Kyyis said resignedly.

"I think I may need to. It's been awhile since I've been to the capital, besides I need to catch up with Platime." Talen answered standing up and pulling his cloak around his shoulders.

"I'm sure going to Cimmuria has nothing whatsoever to do with a certain princess, right?" Kyyis said, his tone heavy with sarcasm.

"You don't have to come!" Talen said, his voice sounding defensive even to his own ears. "I'm sure Berit wouldn't mind coming, he and Olet love visiting with Ehlana and Sparhawk."

Kyyis rolled his eyes. "I definitely will sit this one out. No offense Talen, thieves and cutthroats I can handle, but I would kill myself if I came back to Demos looking like one of those idiotic courtiers Princess Danae is so fond of." He said glaring pointedly at Talen's hair.

Talen just nodded, lost in his thoughts. He needed to find some excuse to go to Cimmuria as soon as possible. He waited as Kyyis finished his tankard; as usual Talen had not touched his own. The two knights left the Boarshead, Mahogan too tied up with business to notice their departure. Outside, the rain had let up somewhat, leaving the streets damp and muddy as Talen quietly followed Kyyis back to where the horses were stabled.

Suddenly the hairs on the back of Talen's neck stood on end. He stopped to listen to the surroundings when he heard a muffled whistling.

"Down Kyyis!" he shouted as he threw himself to the ground. A moment later several cross bolts flew by, cutting the air with deadly precision where Talen had just been standing. Staying close to the ground Talen lifted himself up on elbows and knees and edged ahead to see if his brother was safe. Kyyis was also on the ground but he was breathing hard, and his left arm tucked close to his side.

"Are you hit? Talen whispered urgently when he caught up to him.

"The first bolt just grazed my arm," Kyyis wheezed, out of breath. Talen looked around for quick cover, they only had a few more seconds before the crossbow was reloaded.

"Can you get around toward that alley?" he asked tipping his head northwest to a nearby alley. Kyyis gave a non-committal grunt and began edging toward that direction. The moments were tense as they made their way to the alley, remaining as close to the ground as possible. The overhanging buildings and dark, overcast sky gave the two knights some concealment as they crawled toward the alley. Talen's breathing became ragged and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest as the next round of cross bolts flew overhead nearby. He doubled his efforts to get to safety.

After what seemed like an eternity, they reached the alley. With its narrow entrance, winding corridor, and the overhanging stories of the surrounding buildings, it was relatively safe from the crossbow's ranged projectiles. Talen helped Kyyis to his feet and inspected his brother. The cross bolt had grazed him along the bicep of his left arm cutting through his chain mail and leaving a nasty-looking gash that was bleeding profusely. Pulling out his dagger, Talen quickly cut through a length of his cloak and double-wrapped it around the bleeding arm. Kyyis' face was pale, but otherwise he seemed unharmed. After binding his brother's arm, Talen looked down the rest of the alley. Talen was familiar with it, along with most corners and hiding holes of Cheadin. This particular one hit a dead end but there was a cellar window further down that opened into the basement of a small bakery.

Deciding that was their best chance to dodge their persuers, Talen sheathed his dagger and pulled out a shorter, thicker one. Tipping his head forward to indicate to Kyyis the direction he was heading, Talen began transversing the narrow alley. Less then ten steps away, however, the Pandions met company. In the darkness Talen didn't realize they were walking into an ambush until he heard the telltale ring of a sword being unsheathed. Fortunately, the constricted corridor only allowed one man to engage forward. Talen didn't have enough room to parry the thrust of his ambusher, so he dove sideways and tumbled forward coming to his feet behind his attacker. Remaining in a crouch, he sliced through the tendon of the first attacker's knee. The next attacker was caught unaware and received a dagger wound in the belly as Talen rose from his crouch. The last attacker had more response time but the sight of his injured comrades and Talen coming at him with a bloodied dagger caused him to flee. Talen pursued him until a familiar moan made him stop dead. Climbing back over the two attackers in the alley Talen found Kyyis sagging against the alley wall, unconscious.


	3. Help

Note: I don't own any characters/places/ideas etc. from the Elenium/Tamuli they belong to David and Leigh Eddings.

Thank you to my reviewers, your input is very, very much appreciated! Without further ado,

Chapter 3: Help

Talen knelt beside his brother. Kyyis remained unconscious, but he was still breathing. Talen looked down the alley, he knew at least one of his attackers was still down further, but if he left the alley he would leave himself and his brother open to the crossbow shooter. He would have to get to that cellar, and quickly.

Talen heaved Kyyis' uninjured arm across his shoulders and lifted his brother's limp form. Strengthened by their dire circumstances, Talen barely felt the knight's appreciable weight as he slowly made his way down the alley. With stark relief he reached the cellar window. Talen propped Kyyis against the adjacent wall and crouched down until he was level with the window, which was locked. That wasn't any particular problem for Talen as his nimble fingers set to quickly pick the lock.

Just as the last tumbler fell, Talen heard rushed footsteps coming from further down the alley. With a muttered oath he rose to his feet and unsheathed his dagger just as the first man came at him. He parried the attacker's swipe aided by his opponent's lack of maneuvering room. Talen parried another thrust but it left his forearm throbbing. Suddenly, another man was upon him. Talen dodged sideways avoiding another swipe by the initial attacker, but the second man had anticipated his move, intercepting him as his first opponent careened forward, overbalanced by his sword.

Holding on to his side-moving momentum, Talen deflected the second attacker's hit, simultaneously reaching behind to unsheathe another dagger. The second attacker came at Talen again, throwing a mid-blow. Talen met the hit with his right dagger and stabbed his left one straight into the man's chest. He heard the whistling of a sword slicing through the air, but couldn't disengage from the dying man to dodge the incoming blow. Talen was only able to turn partially and he felt steel bite deeply into his side. On the bright side, the first attacker was having trouble disentangling his sword from Talen's flesh and mail, giving Talen the opening he needed. Talen drove his dagger into the first attacker's throat and the man sagged to his knees and pitched forward.

Talen's side was wet and sticky with blood. Dizzy and lightheaded, he tried desperately to focus on where he was and what he needed to do. His entire side was beginning to numb as he made his way back to the window and pushed it open. He lifted his brother's arm and hooked his own under it. Dragging Kyyis over to the small window, he pushed him inside where Kyyis dropped unceremoniously to the cellar floor. His strength waning, Talen slid himself into the window, falling in beside his brother.

Like most cellars, this one was cool and damp with the faint scent of mildew hanging in the air. Talen propped himself against the wall as another wave of dizziness assailed him. Vaguely he wondered if he would die here. What a way to go, bleeding to death down a dark alley in a stinky cellar. A groan next to him broke Talen's morbid musings as he looked to his brother's shivering form. Talen shook his head to clear it. A thief and beggar might deserve to die like this, but Kyyis deserved better. Talen would never forgive himself if he allowed anything to happen to his brother. He was the one who dragged Kyyis into this mess. He would get them out.

First things first, though. Taking a shuddering breath, Talen incanted a spell to deflect any passerby's notice of the injured knights. His trembling fingers reluctantly making the correct symbols, Talen incanted a second spell, the simplest one all Pandions learned. With the last of his strength Talen released the spell for help. Barely holding on to consciousness, he momentarily glimpsed two grass-stained feet before darkness overtook him.

--

In the cozy, opulent bedroom of the royal apartments, Sparhawk was reading aloud the evening's correspondence as his wife brushed her long blond hair. It was the royal couple's usual evening ritual before they retired. His wife laughed, her rich, vibrant voice filling the room as Sparhawk read through the latest letter he had received.

"It sounds like our friend has his hands full" she said.

"Indeed he does, he says here that he would prefer the company of a troll."

Ehlana turned from her vanity mirror, and expression of mocking horror on her pale face.

"Surely she can't be that terrible!"

"Ulath seems to think so, he writes:" Sparhawk picked up the letter and read verbatim, "Truly I would prefer the company of a troll, a troll does not throw a tantrum over trivial things like the color of a gown, it doesn't pout, and it _never_ giggles."

Ehlana put her hand over her mouth, but couldn't stop her laughter from spilling over.

"And I thought Ulath would remain a bachelor forever." she sighed, turning back toward her vanity.

"It seems he had no choice in this particular matter," Sparhawk said, folding the characteristically short letter and returning it to the envelope to reply later.

Just then, the door burst open and two yelling, rambunctious children stormed into the room.

"Please help me Uncle Sparhawk! Eluen is going to hit me!" and adorable little girl with long brunette braids and two missing teeth cried, flinging herself into Sparhawk's arms. Sparhawk gathered the little girl to him as he held out his hand to stop the child who was chasing her.

"Uncle Sparhawk, she took my special pendant! The one father gave me! Make her give it back!" said a little boy with the same shade of hair as the girl.

"I didn't take your pendant! You left it in your horse bag!"

"Did not!"

"Did so!"

It went downhill from there, until Ehlana abruptly told them to both stop and demanded they apologize to each other. Shamefaced, the children muttered apologies and looked up guiltily as Kalten walked in with Alean.

"Eluen! Kida! What do you think you're doing?" Kalten demanded. "You mother told you to wait downstairs!" he said.

"Welcome home!" Ehlana said rising and running over to Alean, where she embraced her former maid. After everyone shared hugs, Kida and Eluen ran off to find Danae while the adults settled down in the sitting room to catch up. Kalten gently helped his wife, who was carrying their third child, take a seat.

"Please tell us everything!" Ehlana asked, her face alight, "How fares Mirtai and Kring? Did sir Tynian come back with you?"

"Aye, Tynian would not pass up the chance to visit, he had to send a messenger out to let Sarathi he would be delayed arriving at Chreyllos, but he should be up soon," answered Kalten.

Sparhawk studied his boyhood friend, who was more like a brother to him. The big, blond knight had put on extra weight; no doubt due to Alean's delicious cooking. He and his quiet wife were both tanned from the recent months they spent visiting with the nomadic Peloi.

"Mirtai is her usual self, daggers polished and ready to gut anyone who offers her any slight whatsoever," Kalten continued, "But truly that Taieg is growing like a weed. Do you know he's over five feet already? The lad's only seven years old!"

Ehlana's laughed. "Mirtai must be bursting with pride!"

"Aye, and so is Kring, especially when Taieg took highest rank at the Diagma" interjected Alean.

"Diagma?" asked Sparhawk, confused.

"Oh…did I pronounce it wrong? Alean said blushing and looking in askance at Kalten. He shook his head.

"No, not at all, sweetheart" he said smiling down at his wife. "Sparhawk isn't familiar with the term."

"Diagma is a Peloi custom, a joust or tournament, of sorts." said a voice from the doorway.

Everyone looked up as sir Tynian strolled into the room. Sparhawk rose, greeting the Alcione knight and invited him to have a seat. Tynian crossed the room and took a seat beside Kalten.

"Tell us more about this Diagma." Ehlana asked curiously.

"It was an older custom among the Peloi during the off season for cattle drives, before the Peloi began hunting Zemoch ears for fun and profit. Naturally, Mirtai found out about it and insisted on reinstituting it."

"With some hand-to-hand modifications, I am sure." Ehlana said with a knowing smile.

"That she did. Interestingly enough though, she didn't participate," said Tynian.

Sparhawk expression became puzzled "Why? I've never known Mirtai to back down from a fight." Indeed, the Atan warrior was one of the best soldiers, male or female, that Sparhawk had ever known.

Kalten answered Sparhawk's inquiry. "She only stayed out to let that cub of hers get a chance to flex his claws. Taieg is a dangerous one. Not only did he beat all the contestants in the camp, he barely broke a sweat. Did I mention the lad is only seven?" Kalten said with a sullen expression.

"It does tend to make one feel a bit inadequate," Tynian observed.

"Truly," agreed Sparhawk.

Ehlana crossed the room to sit beside her husband. "Dearest Sparhawk, surely the preeminent knight in all Elenia and savior of the world is not threatened by a mere child?" she said taking his hand, her eyes luminous. Her voice began to crescendo to epic proportions, "…Surely eons from now bards shall sing of thine exploits and how thou lifteth up thy blue jewel, Bhelliom, and how thou smote mighty Azash, and anon when thou evil adversary Klael, the accursed one soughteth to enslave thine world, thou brought thy jewel and banished evil …"

"Ehlana please stop; I get the point." Sparhawk said, interrupting his queen before she built to the climax of her impromptu speech

"Oh well," said the queen, her voice quite normal "As long as you are done feeling sorry for yourself." She smiled impishly and turned toward Tynian.

"Why are you going to Cheryllos?" she asked.

"I need to speak with Sarathi." Tynian replied.

Ehlana waited.

"Ah…It isn't very important, your majesty," he said.

Sparhawk raised an eyebrow, "If it's sensitive, we won't press you about it. Will we, your majesty?" Sparhawk said, sharing a glance with his wife, who pursed her lips and nodded reluctantly.

"Of course not sir Tynian, I just thought we might be able to help." Ehlana said, not quite able to keep the curiosity out of her voice.

"Ah, no Sparhawk it's nothing like that." Tynian said, looking very uncomfortable.

Kalten laughed. "Tynian happened to make one of his famous 'suggestions' to his preceptor and Darrellon ran with it."

"What kind of suggestion?" Ehlana asked, leaning forward.

Tynian sighed, beaten. "I suggested that perhaps we modify the Diagma for our own uses. Some of the Church Knights of my order have been getting restless, as there are only so many Rendors to carve up. I figured it might be useful for the Alcione knights to participate in a tournament to keep us fit and occupied during this outbreak of relative peace. So I mentioned it to Darrellon, and he liked the idea." Tynian said.

Kalten took up where Tynian left off. "Darrellon thought it was such a great idea that he figured it would be even better to include the other three orders and make the tournament more inclusive. So he sent Tynian to ask Dolmant for his permission to organize it."

"A tournament is an excellent idea, sir Tynian!" Ehlana exclaimed, her eyes taking on a distant gleam. "I can already imagine! We could set up right outside the city gates, of course, we would have to clear away several acres of those woods, but that would not take too long…"

"Er, queen Ehlana?" Tynian interrupted, looking even more uncomfortable at the queen's excited smile.

"Yes, sir Tynian?"

"Well, you see, your majesty, it rains half the year in Elenia…Darrellon and the other preceptors already agreed that we should hold the tournament in Diera."

Ehlana's eyes widened and her face fell in abject disappointment. "Diera?"

Sparhawk put a consoling arm around his wife's shoulders. "Don't worry Ehlana; surely the light of Elenia will outshine all the world, even when another country is chosen to host the largest tournament in a century."

"That is not funny, Sparhawk."

--

Sir Tynian left three days later, amidst a torrential downpour. While Ehlana had not quite forgiven him for depriving her of the tournament, she and Sparhawk were both sad to see him go. Once they had said their farewells, the royal couple returned inside to check on Danae. The young princess had fallen ill as was her wont from time to time. Sparhawk suspected what caused his daughter to turn lethargic and semi-comatose, and although Danae might deny it, he knew it was fatiguing for the child-goddess to be in multiple places at once. As a result, he worried as much as Ehlana when their daughter fell ill, albeit for different reasons.

In the corridor leading to Danae's suite of rooms, they ran into Ensen. His brow was knit as if in deep thought and did not look up at Sparhawk and Ehlana until they were directly in front of him.

"Good morning, Ensen." Ehlana greeted the earl's nephew

Ensen looked up and smiled at the beautiful queen.

"Good morning ye majesty, ye highness…" Ensen paused, "I wonder if I might have a word with ye, Prince Sparhawk, when ye free p'haps? I dinnae want to interrrupt if ye are visiting her highness," he asked Sparhawk tentatively.

Sparhawk put his hand on the young man's shoulder and nodded, "I will catch up with you later then, Ensen."

"Thanks mate. I'll be in the archives for the next few hours," he said, walking off.

Danae was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed, an indecipherable expression on her face. She looked up and smiled wanly when Ehlana and Sparhawk walked in.

"Are we feeling better?" Ehlana said sitting on the edge of the bed and pressing her hand against her daughter's forehead.

"I am fine, mother. I was just tired earlier, I feel much better now." Danae said, smiling again.

"All right, darling," Ehlana said, not quite convinced. "I think I will talk to physician Adrium in either case."

Danae wrinkled her nose. "But mother, he will make me drink that awful concoction he makes! I really am feeling much better," the young princess pleaded, her eyes wide and imploring.

"That's nice dear," Ehlana said absently, as she rose to fetch the physician.

When Ehlana was out of earshot, Danae looked up at Sparhawk as he studied her gravely.

"What is it, Sparhawk?" the child-goddess asked petulantly.

"Would you like to tell me what happened?" Sparhawk asked quietly, a slight edge in his voice.

Danae heaved a great sigh, "Elenes," she muttered under her breath. "Talen and Kyyis got waylaid in Cheadin," she said.

Sparhawk felt a stab in his chest at the mention of Kurik's sons.

"Are they all right?" he asked carefully.

Danae frowned. "Kyyis is fine. The bolt that hit him was venomous, but the poison was fairly easy to counteract…"

"And Talen?"

If not for the grave situation, Sparhawk might have laughed. It was very rare that he saw the Styric child-goddess look uncertain. Right now her uncertain look caused a shiver to run down his spine.

"He was wounded, and he bled a lot before he was stitched up, but he should be okay."

"Should?"

"There's nothing wrong with him, Sparhawk. I don't know why he will not wake up." Danae said; frustration and concern plainly written over her face.

Sparhawk looked at his daughter, "I seem to remember you brought Atan Engessa to your 'special place' and let him heal there. Why couldn't you do the same with Talen, and find out what is wrong with him?" asked Sparhawk.

Danae's eyes became shuttered. "I can't."

"Why?"

Danae buried her head in her hands and murmured, "I wish my sister were here."

Sparhawk crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at the child goddess.

"Don't you love me anymore, father?" she asked looking up, tears forming in her eyes.

"There is no need for that Danae," Sparhawk said sternly, kissing his daughter on the brow. "But you still need to tell me what is going on. This is the third time this month you have fallen ill; it worries your mother to no end, and I also have my share of concerns." he said.

"Well," Danae started wringing her hands, "When I decided to be incarnated in this form I had to get permission from the Elene god. You have no idea how fast I had to talk to pull that one off, but I did do something nice for him once…"

"Danae," Sparhawk interjected, "What does this have to do with you getting sick?"

"I was just coming to that, Sparhawk" fixing him with a withering glance.

"The Elene god consented, but with some restrictions. He said that in this incarnation, I would have to age and die like a normal mortal."

"And you agreed to that?"

"Of course, Sparhawk. I figured I would have to pretend to age and die anyway, so I didn't think anything of it. I did _not_ consider that he would take care of my mortality personally. He is so tedious; I really would have done it myself." Danae grimaced.

Sparhawk sighed, he _had_ asked after all.

"Anyway," Danae continued, "I still can do everything I did before, but this body wasn't designed for some of the things I can do, so it tends to become exhausted easily, especially when I have to split my concentration."

Just then, Ehlana returned with Adrium, the court physician, cutting Sparhawk's conversation short. Sparhawk excused himself to go see Ensen in archives, while a miserable-looking Danae was given her medicine.


	4. Trial By Ice

Author's Note: Please see previous disclaimer in Chapters 1 and 2. If you like/dislike or have ideas/concerns please, please, please review.

And thank you again to all those who have already reviewed!

Chapter 4: Trial by Ice

Talen slowly became aware of a strong hand on his shoulder gently shaking him awake, and a painfully familiar voice calling his name. He looked up, but could not understand what he was seeing.

"Father?"

"Come on lad," Kurik said, gruffly pulling the young man to his feet. "He wants to see you."

Talen immediately obeyed. A voice inside him screamed that everything here was wrong; but a strange, calm platitude had come over him as he followed his long- dead father. They walked briskly down the massive stone hall. It was cold and dim as grey pre-morning light streamed through the narrow windows that lined each side of the hallway.

"I'm sorry, father." Talen said quietly to the man leading him.

"What for?" Kurik asked. He looked back at the young man, but didn't slow his pace.

"For dying like this," Talen began, "I'm sure you expected better of me, but I just couldn't be what you wanted me to be. I guess sinners never change."

Kurik gave him an odd look. "Why do you think you're dead Talen?"

A mocking smirk tugged at Talen's mouth. "Well, let's review. I was stabbed in the side, and when I woke up I was here with my dead father. Now I am walking down a long, ominous hallway to see 'him'. I'm going to final judgment, aren't I?"

Kurik laughed, causing Talen to frown. "No Talen," his father answered. "Actually, you're between life and death, and trust me, you're only visiting."

A thousand questions sprang to Talen's mind, but he was at a loss to articulate them with the blanket of calm that rested over his emotions. Instead, he continued to follow his father down the long hallway. As they walked, it gradually grew brighter and where before there were grey quarry stones, the walls and floor shifted into pale quartz. The light itself did not change, but the quartz caught and refracted it from the multicolored veins that ran through the opal colored walls.

After several more minutes of walking they finally reached two large, ornate doors engraved with familiar-looking symbols. Talen was sure he had seen the symbols before, but he couldn't remember where.

"You have to continue on your own now," Kurik said. "This door leads to your trials, so be careful."

"Trials?" Talen asked apprehensively.

"Yes. There are four of them, and each are important."

Kurik reached forward and opened the door and nodded for Talen to enter. Light blue illumination spilled into the glistening hallway, filling it with azure light. Reluctantly, Talen stepped through the door and found himself in a cavern of sorts, except it was completely comprised of ice. Looking back, both Kurik and the door had disappeared, leaving Talen alone in the strange cave. It was an awesome site to behold, an entire world of translucent blue, with massive ice crystals hanging from the ceiling and rising up majestically from the ground. The space was filled with a silence as profound as the grave.

Stepping forward, a wave of frosty air hit Talen causing him to shiver and wrap his arms around himself. This must be the first of the four trials his father had mentioned. Talen moved forward reluctantly to meet the challenge. As he walked forward the room slowly narrowed into a single path.

The corridor led on and on with no end in sight. The cold, which had merely been an irritation before, began to bite. Talen could feel his fingers and toes going numb when at last he came to a fork. The path to his left went straight forward, while the right corridor curved to the side. The Pandion thief was at a loss. His instinct was to go straight, it was the most practical thing to do; however, the straight path darkened considerably several feet away. On the other hand, the curving corridor glistened with light.

Drawing his dagger and moving slowly and carefully, Talen took the straight path. He crossed the packed ice as the corridor became darker and darker. In the stillness, something came to Talen's ears. At first he could barely make it out, like the memory of a dream upon waking. Gradually though, Talen could discern echoes around him. They were murmuring sounds, sourceless voices in the ice fortress. The murmuring put Talen on edge as the sounds became more and more distinct.

In addition to the voices, the corridor that Talen chose to follow was becoming more and more constricted. Talen, however, continued forward. There were people ahead and perhaps they would be able to explain this place or help him. The young Pandion continued forward on the contracting path. Finally, Talen had to turn sideways to continue through. He couldn't stop, the voices were becoming clearer and clearer. Talen pulled his chest in as the opposite wall scraped painfully against his ribs. He could barely draw breath for the proximity of the ice.

Talen reached a dead end.

Sighing, he leaned his head forward and rested it on the cold ice. He was freezing and exhausted, and could no longer feel his hands and feet. Perhaps he should give up. "No!" his mind rebelled, as he felt a fury begin to build up within him. Talen may be many things, but weak-willed was not one of them. Straightening, he made a vow -- he would get out of here, and no longer play by anyone's rules.

At that point, Talen had an epiphany, but spent several moments berating himself for not having thought of it earlier. Cupping his right hand, he began incanting the spell for fire, controlling it with his finger movements. Talen smiled as the ice began to crack along the dead end of the corridor. The Pandion slowly increased the heat as the solid ice walls started to melt.

Talen wedged his dagger into the initial fissure in the ice and began forcing the wall apart as he mantained the fire in his other hand. Growing more and more impatient by the moment, Talen continued to relentlessly pry the ice apart as the freezing water spilled down his arm. Finally Talen saw light through the hole he made and felt a wave of cool air blast him. The voices were now comprehensible, though they spoke in a language unfamiliar to Talen.

Talen decided to do something rather rash at that moment. He focused the fire through the wall, and increased its output exponentially.

The resulting explosion was rather spectacular. Ice sprayed everywhere sending reverberating shocks throughout the entire cave. Tiny flecks of the blown-apart ice filled the cavern, drifting down like fresh snow. Lovely, Talen thought as he gingerly lifted his bruised body from the ground. He was now in a very large chamber filled with light and voices, but to Talen's dismay, the voices did not belong to anyone. Instead the echoes just bounced back and forth from the walls.

The young Pandion felt a deep rumbling go through the ground followed closely by the sound of a sharp cracking. Suddenly, no less then a few feet from where he was standing, one of the large ice crystals attached to the ceiling broke apart and came crashing to the ground. Talen looked up in shock and fear. The ceiling was cracking again; this time directly over him.

Talen made a run for it, slipping and sliding over the slick surface as pillar after pillar of ice came down directly behind him. He ran as fast as his feet could carry him to avoid the resulting avalanche with no clear direction in mind. Suddenly, looming ahead of the young knight was the same door that had led him into the ice chamber. Re-doubling his efforts, Talen raced to the door as the falling ice quickly closed the distance.

Reaching for the door, he wrenched it open plunging himself headfirst into what he thought was his next trial...

Talen came careening over the threshold and nearly laughed in relief. The inside was simply the office of a preceptor. The preceptor offices of the militant orders where virtually indistinguishable from one another, Talen had been to all four at one time or another. This particular one was done in the same vein, however, Talen immediately noticed that all four sets of the militant order's coat of arms was represented somewhere in the room.

"Sit, my son." A deep, baritone voice entreated Talen. Talen turned to the right and faced an ascetic-looking man. He had long white hair that was bound behind his back. His face was smooth and untouched by age. The man's eyes where another matter completely.

They were very pale, almost colorless, but in their depths was great wisdom and conviction. Talen stood rooted to the spot, feeling oddly exposed to the strange man.

"Who are you?" Talen asked, incredibly curious.

The man did not answer but instead indicated a nearby chair. Taking the hint, Talen walked to the chair and nearly collapsed into it.

"My name hath no relevance to thee, Talen of Cimmuria." He said quietly in his deep voice.

Talen was about to interject when the strange man gave him a look that silenced him and effectively cut off further interruptions.

"Thou must harken closely my son, for I do lie a great task upon thee. In thy youth thou hath taken unto thee a vow to defendeth thy land and thy god. I have need of thee my son, as doth thy land."

Talen sat speechless as the pale-eyed man continued.

"Truly thy Prince of fair Elenia is like no other. Knowest none, man nor god, of Anahka's destiny. Thus thy world art imperiled, even as thy darkest eve returneth unto day. Thou, Talen of Cimmuria, art one of the chosen, among those marked by the errant path of Anahka. Power doth lie in thy hand to constructeth evil or good. Choose thou now, and knowest thou thy decision affecteth not only thee, but thy people."

"What do you want me to do?" asked Talen.

"I ask of thee only what cometh most naturally. I beseech thee to obtain an object of great value and import."

"You want me to steal something?" Talen asked, flabbergasted.

"Thou speaketh truly, the object thou seeketh is known as the Concordia writ."

"What is it?" Talen asked bemused.

"The Concordia writ doth hold the lore and knowledge of antiquity; it is the basis of what thou knowest as the Secrets of Styricum."

"With all due respect, I can not..."

"Why doth thou refuse? Doth thou believe thou art lacking in ability? I assure thee, thou art well-suited to thine task."

Talen shook his head, "No sir, that's not it, I could probably steal the blue from the sky, but I absolutely will not betray my friends."

The pale-eyed man frowned thoughtfully. "Thou art noble in thine own way, Talen of Cimmuria. Knowest thou I have no ill intention toward any of thine allies. Doth thou requireth the aquiesance of the Styric goddess Aphrael?"

"Do you know her?" Talen asked failing to hide his confusion.

"Indeed, the lady doth owe me many favors."

Talen felt his stomach sink as several things fell into place.

"Aphrael shall assist thee, and she shall assure thee mine intentions are pure. Thou must straightaway seeketh out sir Bevier of Arcium. Thy comrade holdeth the first key to the Concordia writ. Thou shalt receiveth further instruction anon."

With that, the strange man nodded dismissing Talen. The throughly confused knight went back to the door, fervently praying that it did not open back into the ice fortress. When he opened it, the opal hallway came into view. Stepping over the threshold Talen found his father leaning against the wall with a faintly amused expression on his face.

"Do you mind?" asked Talen tartly. Kurik just raised an eyebrow.

"Would you please tell me what that was all about?" Talen asked his father.

"I'm really not supposed to tell you anything." Kurik said.

Talen sighed. "Am I going home now? Or to hell?"

"You're going home, I was just waiting for you to finish whining." Kurik said, pulling off the wall and leading Talen back down the hall.

"I wasn't whining," Talen grumbled. Just then something occured to him. "Didn't you say that there were four trials? I only finished one."

A pained look crossed Kurik's face. "After that little stunt you pulled, he decided to take you out early, he was concerned you would destroy everything in sight."

"I hit a dead end, father! What was I supposed to do?" asked Talen defensively.

"You could have doubled back when you realized you chose the wrong path."

"I chose the wrong path?" Talen asked sheepishly.

Kurik rolled his eyes, "Yes Talen, you chose the wrong path. You were supposed to follow the light."

--

Several columns of flying pinions, gaily dressed courtiers and bright decorative banners stained the verdant grasslands of eastern Elenia. Timbrels, drums, lutes and harps blended with light harmonies and sweet melodies. Laughter, singing, and idle banter filled the air with good humor and joy as the procession moved inexorably east.

In the midst of all the fun and goodwill one man clad impeccably in gleaming black armor and an incandescent white surcoat rode astride an ill-tempered roan horse. The angry knight wore a menacing scowl and his expression was one of profound disapproval. No one ventured to go near him, let alone speak to the furious-looking Pandion.

The Queen of Elenia and her Champion had an argument several days prior. Sparhawk had been shifting through the last three year's district shipping reports with Ensen when Ehlana had come sweeping into the archives issuing announcements and ultimatums. Sparhawk had remained calm and collected as the queen proclaimed she would 'simply die' if she spent another hour imprisoned in the palace. The Prince Consort had even been reasonable enough to suggest an outdoor picnic.

Unfortunately, he and Ehlana had vastly different definitions of a picnic. The royal couple argued and, as usual, the colorful scene this morning indicated a clear winner. The Queen of Elenia, along with her retinue were on their way to Cheryllos amid much celebration and fanfare. The one concession Ehlana had given her husband was the protection provided by two contingents of Pandions flanking either side of the procession.

"Milord Sparhawk?"

Sparhawk turned to the man who had ridden up beside him. With his father's dark hair and competent bearing, Dirkeim had taken over as Sparhawk's squire last year. Dirkeim's older brother Khalad had been promoted to Pandion preceptor after many years serving as Sparhawk's squire; taking the heavy burden of leadership from the Prince Consort's shoulders.

Sparhawk momentarily lost his ill humor as he slowed to let his squire catch up with him. Dirkeim shared his brother's sense of duty and loyalty, but that was the end of their similarities. Dirkeim was quiet, respectful, and devout to a fault. In fact, he reminded Sparhawk strongly of his friend and comrade, sir Bevier.

"What's the matter, Dirkeim?" Sparhawk asked, noting the young man's concerned look.

"Sire, there's a column of Genidian knights further back. The leader said he was looking for sir Tynian."

Sparhawk nodded, feeling a rebellious smile tug at his mouth "Why don't you take me to them?" he asked Dirkeim. The young man nodded, and wheeled his horse around, heading to the back of the procession. Sparhawk followed suit and the two Pandions galloped toward the Genidian column. Sparhawk grinned as he easily picked out sir Ulath, the Genidian Champion, who towered a head and shoulders above his fellow knights.

The tall Thalesian knight was riding beside Komier, the preceptor of the Genidian order. As usual, instead of armor, the Genidian church knights wore mail shirts and conical-shaped helmets. The lack of armor, however did nothing to diminish the ovrewhelming presence of the column riding forward. Sparhawk took the lead as he rode forward toward where Komier and Ulath were riding.

"Hail Prince Sparhawk," Komier boomed, his face cracking into a wide grin.

"Komier, Ulath! What finds you so far from home?" Sparhawk asked returning the grin.

Komier answered. "We've been trying to track down that blasted Alcione knight. I didn't think I would have to chase him half- way across the continent, though." Komier grimaced. Sparhawk looked at Ulath in askance.

"Apparently, some idiot gave Tynian the wrong dates for the upcoming tournament. So Darellon sent us after him to give him the right information before he passes word to the other preceptors." Ulath explained.

Sparhawk looked down the ranks of the fearsome Genidian knights. "Seems like you have a lot of men here to pass on a simple message." Sparhawk said, slightly perplexed.

"Ah well... it was getting a bit cramped at the Alcione chapterhouse." Komier answered.

"Not to mention Darellon and Komier were at each other's throats." Ulath muttered under his breath.

"I heard that Ulath!"

Ulath shrugged, unconcerned. "I'm sure all those in leadership clash once in awhile, as do cats in heat," Ulath said calmly as he addressed his preceptor. Komier flushed, his face turning red and his eyes bulging. "Why Komier, you don't look too well. Perhaps you should take a break, you are getting older, you know." Ulath observed, his expression completely serious.

Komier sputtered several barely comprehensible phrases before an evil-looking grin crossed his face. "Ulath, you haven't introduced your niece and nephew to Prince Sparhawk yet!" Komier then proceeded to wheel his horse around.

"Coraine!" he called back to a brunette woman further down the column. "Would you be so kind as to bring Lady Natil and young Agher up here?"

Sparhawk watched as Ulath visibly shuddered. The confident, powerful knight seemed to actually shrink into the saddle as a pained look crossed his face. The woman Komier had called to made her way up to where Sparhawk and Komier rode, followed by a young woman around Danae's age. In her lap she carried a little boy no older than six.

The young woman smiled brightly as she reached the men. Sparhawk noted Dirkeim's sharp intake of breath at the sight of Ulath's niece. Ulath also noticed and eyed Sparhawk's squire with a mix of hostility and irritation as he idly fingered his ax.

"Well, uncle aren't you going to introduce us to your friends?" the young woman asked, with a artfully contrived look of innocence that was frighteningly similar to Ehlana's.


	5. Threads

Author's Note: If I owned anything from the Elenium or the Tamuli I would be spending my time congratulating myself on my own cleverness...sadly I don't own **anything **from these incredible books. Places, characters, and ideas from Elenium/Tamuli belong exclusively to David and Leigh Eddings.

I would like to thank all my reviewers for their time and great ideas. For some reason I can not fathom (though my imaginary psychiatrist insists it is a subconscious approval complex,) review comments/ideas seem to have strange effect on my writing. (ie readers can thank Fire-Shark for Aphrael referring to herself in the fourth person...)

The moral of this tiny aside? Please read and review!!please, please PLEASE...okay my imaginary psychiatrist just threatened a straightjacket so...on to the story!

**Chapter 5 Threads **

The first thing Talen became aware of was a splitting headache.

"_Look who finally decided to wake up," _observed a familiar and rather waspish voice.

"Aphrael?" he asked.

"Aphrael? No, sir Talen, it's me," answered a different voice.

Talen slit his eyes open and immediately closed them as he was assaulted by light.

"_Are you seriously going back to sleep, Talen? Don't you think three days is enough?"_

"Talen are you alright?"

"Three days?" Talen asked.

"What do you mean?"

"_Yes, three days and you had me worried sick! How many times have I told you not to…"_

"Please save it. You can lecture me after my head stops hurting."

"Sir Talen? Who are you talking to?"

Talen ventured to open his eyes again. A lavender eyed woman with shimmering red hair was staring down at him.

"Ah…hullo Olet," he said contritely. Olet's dark brows were creased with a look of consternation. "Talen, who were you just talking to?" she asked again.

"No one, milady, I was…dreaming."

"I see," said Olet, though her tone stated otherwise.

"Is Kyyis alright?" he asked.

"Yes, he is quite well. He recovered much faster than you. He is with your other brothers at the Chapterhouse," Olet answered.

"Is he awake?" asked yet another voice Talen recognized as Berit's.

"Yes, milord, but he does not seem to be entirely lucid…" Olet answered.

Talen struggled to sit up in bed. "I'm perfectly sane!" he protested. As he pulled himself into a sitting position, he finally recognizing that he was in his own room at the farm in Demos. How did he get here? The thought was forgotten as his stomach churned painfully. "I'm starving! Is there anything to eat?"

"I'm sure your mothers will be able to put together something," Berit answered as he turned and left Talen's room. Talen groaned.

"What is the matter?" Olet asked, concerned.

"I'm never going to hear the end of it…do you have any idea what it's like to receive lectures from two mothers?"

Olet's laughter filled the room.

After Aslade and Elys finished delivering long, blistering lectures and bone crushing hugs, Talen got up to eat, bathe, and take care of other bodily functions long overdue. While Talen was finishing his dinner, Berit filled him in on what happened while he was unconscious.

"Two ruffians brought you and Kyyis back to the Chapterhouse, I don't remember their names…" the blonde knight started.

"Was one man tall and thin while the other one short and stocky?" Talen asked in between bites.

Berit nodded giving Talen a questioning look. "That sounds right. Anyway, Flute was with them. That was probably the only reason they weren't killed on the spot. Flute asked for Olet and between the two of them they got you stitched up and gave Kyyis some hideous looking tonic to counteract the poison."

"Poison?" Talen asked, alarmed.

"Apparently the cross-bolt that hit him was covered with it. Olet's sure it was of Styric origin, but the ingredients are rare and considered contraband in Eosia. She said it was probably smuggled over, but she doesn't know how."

Talen nodded. "If Olet says it's a Styric poison, it's a Styric poison."

Berit nodded in agreement. Despite being an Elene, Olet's knowledge of the Arcane branch of the Secrets rivaled even Sephrenia's; a fact that she had demonstrated when he and Berit first met the lavender-eyed Arcane Master. Talen shuddered as he remembered tumbling down several flights of stairs after her vertigo spell hit him. Olet had earned second place on the list of women Talen refused to cross.

Berit continued on. "After the first day you didn't wake up, Olet suggested we bring you back to the farm. So we all packed up and came here."

"How come it's just you and Olet here?"

"Well, your brothers were rightfully concerned, and they were driving Olet insane with their questions and 'what ifs'. After an hour she banished the lot of them back to the Chapterhouse." Berit grinned wryly, "She tried to banish me too."

"I see she wasn't very successful," Talen smirked. "Have you set a date yet?"

"Not yet…but Olet wants to get married sometime this winter."

"That's typical of her."

"What do you mean by typical, sir Talen?"

Both men looked up as Olet walked in to the kitchen. She crossed to Talen and laid her hand against his forehead.

"Feeling any better?" she asked.

"Much better," he said to the lavender eyed woman. Talen got up and stretched. "I'm going to take a walk and stretch out these kinks; I'll be back in a little while," he told Olet and Berit as he left the kitchen.

Walking outside, Talen exhaled slowly, letting the anxiety drain out of his taut body. What part was real? What part was a dream? Though he didn't realize it, he had been making his way slowly to the oak where his father lay buried. Talen stared up at the wide spreading branches sweeping to either side. The tree was filled with rich, verdant leaves that rippled and undulated with the breeze, their deep green hues bursting with vitality, life and promise.

All those leaves holding so much potential and vigor… would wither and decay, fading as dust in the wind. Talen felt his mortality keenly.

"But you know, spring always returns." Aphrael interrupted his thoughts.

Talen looked up, surprised at the lower timbre of the familiar voice. Aphrael wasn't in her usual form of Flute, but instead wore her adult form, though she was dressed modestly in a long, snowy robe. Her face held all the perfection of a goddess, but her dark eyes sparkled with the same whimsical, mischievous glint. She sat sedately on a low hanging branch above Talen, her petite, grass-stained feet crossed at the ankles.

The Styric goddess grinned at the Pandion and extended a hand. "Help me down!"

Talen crossed his arms as he stared at her. "You got yourself up there, why can't you get yourself down?"

"Stop being difficult, Talen," she said wrinkling her nose. "I didn't say that when you were bleeding to death in Cheadin."

Ignoring her proffered hand, Talen reached up and took the Styric goddess by the waist and easily lifted her off the branch. A surprised expression skittered across Aphrael's face reminding Talen strangely of Danae. The sudden thought slipped from his awareness as Aphrael twined her arms around his neck and set her lips against his. Warm, soft and inviting, her kiss was compelling and insistent. Talen wrapped his arm fully around her waist keeping her pressed against him, deepening the kiss. After the space of several heartbeats Aphrael pulled her head back, running her fingers through Talen's hair. Her eyes were darker than usual and set with an unfathomable expression.

"You're getting better at that," she said softly, giving him a faint smile.

Talen shrugged, "Comes with the territory when you appeal to a goddess who prefers kisses over anything else," he said, setting her on her feet. "But I've got to admit it's a lot more fun kissing a grown up," he said smirking. The goddess's eyes widened considerably, and her cheeks were stained with a faint pink.

"Aphrael, are you _blushing_?" Talen asked, incredulous. Then he burst out laughing.

The Styric goddess fixed him with a withering stare. Talen grinned insolently and dropped to the ground, leaning his back against the oak tree.

"Maybe you could help me out?" he added, leaning forward. "Princess Danae is having delusions of marriage that all girls seem to get. Perhaps you could get her to fall in love with one of those idiotic courtiers? I wouldn't be able to give you much attention if I was married, you know," Talen pointed out in his most appealing manner.

"But I thought you liked Danae!" Aphrael said in a voice tinged with alarm.

Talen sighed. "Of course I like her, Aphrael," he said with exaggerated patience. "I just don't want to _marry_ her. I've had my freedom constricted enough becoming a knight. Can you imagine adding a nice, hefty Prince Consort title to that? I would never see the outside of the palace walls again. Besides, who wants a former thief running a country?"

Talen looked up when Aphrael didn't respond. The goddess was scowling as she looked into the distance. Talen leaned back against the tree and absently produced his favorite gold coin out of thin air as he studied her. Aphrael looked back down at him and her brows knit. "Did he give you that?" she asked.

Confused, Talen followed her line of sight down to his hand where he absently twirled his favorite gold coin-- except instead of his gold coin he was spinning a small quartz disk engraved with the familiar symbols from his dreams.

Dropping the quartz disk as if burned, Talen stood so fast he was slightly dizzy.

"My god…It _was_ real!"

It was Aphrael's turn to laugh as she regarded him.

"Of course it was real, Talen. Though why the Elene god would choose _you_ for such an important task is beyond me," she said with a hint of amusement in her tone.

Talen's face drained of all its color. "The _Elene_god? That pale eyed-man?" he asked quietly. Aphrael nodded and knelt to pick up the shinning disk Talen had dropped. She handed the disk back to the thief's trembling fingers.

Talen fought to make sense of what the Styric Goddess was telling him. His mind was quick, easily fitting together the various bits of the puzzle, but his heart couldn't fathom being chosen by god to take on the task of what was essentially theft.

"Why are you helping him?" Talen finally asked.

"I have my reasons," she said simply, filling the young Pandion with a sudden urge to throttle the lovely goddess.

Talen tried a different track. "What did he mean…when he said I was 'marked by the errant path of Anaka'?"

Aphrael looked at him for several moments before she stood, the mirth in her eyes replaced by a gravity he had never seen in her. She stared out into the distance as she addressed his question, hesitant in her words.

"Lives are connected and woven together like a tapestry, Talen; each thread playing its role for good or ill. The weaving of lives goes on and sustains this world. Each destiny is a threaded path that contributes to the preordained pattern."

"Aphrael, I don't buy that," Talen interrupted. You make it sound like nothing we do matters, that everything is already set. Like the choices we make have no bearing on what happens to us."

Aphrael shook her head. "The tapestry doesn't work like that, Talen. Free will is variable; you always have a choice. However, the law of the universe is constant."

"Law of the universe?" Talen asked.

"Cause and effect. You make a choice, and there is a corresponding effect. It's not the choice that keeps the pattern set, but the consequence," she explained a slightly impatient look on her face.

Talen shrugged. It seemed simple enough to follow. "Why's Sparhawk different?" he asked.

The beautiful goddess turned back to him and shrugged. "We know that it has to do with the Bhelliom, but besides that fact, none of us are really sure," she wrinkled her nose "All we know is that he and those closest to him are starting to affect the tapestrey's intrinsic pattern."

"So what happens if the tapestry gets messed up?" Talen asked, noting the apprehensive look on Aphrael's face.

"No of us know, Talen. It's never happened before."


	6. Surrounded

Author's Note: Please see disclaimer in Chapter 5. Sorry it's been awhile since I updated. Thank you to all my reviewers. I will try and get the next update sooner.

Please, please, please review if you like it… If not please review anyway and let me know what's wrong with it…but anyway I will stop whining like a petulant child and let you read the story.

**Chapter 6: Surrounded**

Sparhawk brought his sword up in an overhand stroke, quickly dismembering several of his advancing adversaries. The Pandion knight moved with deadly precision as he swiftly charged down the line of enemies, their dying screams renting the air. Sparhawk continued on to where his squire was surrounded, relentlessly laying waste to everything in his path.

Despite being encircled with hostile enemies, Dirkeim was holding up fairly well. Swinging his mace in a full ring around his body, he managed to keep the surrounding mercenaries at bay, but Sparhawk could see that his squire was beginning to tire out. The grim Champion cut through the rest of the enemies in the intervening space and plowed his way toward his squire.

Sparhawk was not quick enough.

Sickened to his stomach, Sparhawk watched helplessly the young knight was crowded by three mercenaries in a concentrated attack meant only for the purpose of a swift kill. Dirkeim was able to deflect the first blow, but the second cut into his shoulder. Sparhawk could hear the crack of bone as clearly as if the young man were right beside him. Dirkeim's form went slack and he slowly toppled in his saddle.

As Kurik's son hung limply from his horse, Sparhawk felt something snap inside as his consciousness pulled away from the reality of the cruel battlefield. From somewhere outside he could see himself as he drove ruthlessly forward, his sword ripping through mail and flesh, the sound of Faran-II's hoof beats rhythmically pounding on the ground. Finally, he reached Dirkeim who miraculously still clung to his saddle with a white knuckled grip.

The knight was covered in blood; most, but not all of it, his. Deftly maneuvering Faran alongside of Dirkeim's horse, Sparhawk reached over and pulled the young man across Faran's saddle to lie in front of him. A loud voice abruptly brought Sparhawk back to reality from his surreal, out of body awareness.

"Go Sparhawk! We'll cover you!"

Sparhawk didn't bother to turn as he heard Ulath's thundering approach. Trusting the Genidian knight implicitly, the Pandion instead wheeled his horse forward, kicking Faran into a gallop as the black clad- knight and his bleeding squire made their way to the Pandion standard. From behind him, several shrieks were heard and abruptly cut off as Ulath and his fellow knights cleared the field with practiced, brutal efficiency. Wordlessly Sparhawk allowed a field physician to take Dirkeim to where the other wounded were being held.

The rest of the battle was a blur to Sparhawk, a mess of chop and thrust motions set against the backdrop of plains stained with the crimson blood of the fallen. Movements came to Sparhawk automatically, even as his mind rested far away in the green field of a farm in Demos as he watched Kurik's sons wrestle and laugh in the waning afternoon sun.

Much later, a very tired Sparhawk sat next to the makeshift cot of his squire drawing small comfort from the steady rise and fall of the young man's chest. He looked up as a large hand on his shoulder drew his attention. Ulath was frowning down at him, an expression of sympathy in his eyes.

"Have our scouts picked up any sign of movement?" Sparhawk asked.

The hulking Genidian pulled a vacant chair over and seated himself across from Sparhawk. "The latest I heard was the survivors were retreating, but Komier thinks they may have only been another advanced party."

"Has it been confirmed that they were headed toward Chyrellos?" Sparhawk asked, concern for his wife making his voice harsher than usual.

Ulath seemed to take it in stride. "It hasn't been confirmed by any of the prisoners, but it seems like that was the logical place they were headed." Ulath shrugged as he trailed off.

The two knights fell into a companionable silence as they watched Dirkeim hang on the tenuous threads that bound him to life.

Again Sparhawk rested his head in his hands as he conjured up the events that had led to this morning's gruesome battle.

--

At Ehlana's insistence, the large procession had stopped in Demos so that she could check on Talen and Kyyis, whose mishap in Cheadin had been reported to the Elenian queen in Khalad's most recent missive. Sparhawk suspected it was one of the reasons for the impromptu trip to Chyrellos.

The entire retinue arrived in Demos only to find sir Talen had already left.

A cryptic conversation with Danae only revealed that Talen, along with Berit, Kyyis, and Olet were currently headed south to Arcium to complete a task of 'great import'. Khalad had no more information to add; the Pandion preceptor wore a frustrated and angry expression when Sparhawk arrived. He informed Sparhawk about Talen's departure with a scowl as he stood at his desk shaking his head.

Ehlana, of course, was furious. The beautiful queen was worried about the two Pandions and had anticipated seeing them both hale and whole. She had given Sparhawk a blistering speech and blamed Talen's absence solely on her husband. They hadn't spoken to each other for the rest of the day.

The procession packed up and continued the next day. Three days later, several Pandion scouts galloped back to Sparhawk to let him know the procession was trailing a large group of armed mercenaries. A heartbeat later, Ulath arrived with his Genidian scouts to inform Sparhawk that there was a group of unidentified soldiers gaining on them.

They were surrounded.

Sparhawk, Ulath, Komier and the contingent captains came together for a hurried conference.

"Do they even know that were here?" Komier asked.

"Probably not. The ones ahead appear to be an advanced party," answered one of the captains.

"Sooner or later they _will_ notice us, there's no way to hide two contingents of Pandion knights," said Sparhawk.

"Not to mention our own humble column," muttered Ulath.

"So do we strike first?" asked another captain.

"We don't have a choice. They may or may not be hostile, but they're on Elenian soil and armed." Sparhawk said.

"Chyrellos." said Ulath.

Komier rolled his eyes and Sparhawk gave an audible sigh. Several contingent officers looked at each other with confused expressions.

"Care to explain?" asked Sparhawk darkly.

A slightly guilty expression crossed Ulath's face as he elaborated. "It's pretty obvious where they're headed; they're cutting east just like we are. The advance party is probably scouting in order to make sure there aren't any obstacles in the way. Once they reach Chyrellos they will likely set up initial fortifications and wait for the rest to catch up."

Komier nodded. "It seems so. The advanced party probably started behind us but passed us when we stopped in Demos…"

"They would probably skirt as far as possible around the chapterhouse in order to avoid confronting the church knights." Sparhawk added.

"That explains how we got sandwiched between them; now we need to decide whether to take out the force ahead or the one behind." Komier continued.

"We are closer to Chyrellos and the force ahead of us is smaller than the one behind," Sparhawk pointed out. "Not to mention that they will probably reach Chyrellos within the next two days."

"Fine. We'll do it that way," Komier nodded, turning to Sparhawk. "Prince Sparhawk, we will use one of your contingents. I'll have some of my knights close rank around your Queen."

Sparhawk nodded brusquely and gestured to three of his captains. "Birkan, Hendle, and Klus stay. The rest of you spread out the left wing contingent and send the right wing to the head of the procession."

"I'll send some of our knights up there as well," said Komier. With a curt nod he and Ulath left to rally the Genidian column.

Sparhawk addressed the three captains. "We're going to quarter the right wing. Hendle, take the fastest riders and get ahead of the force. Make a lot of noise. I don't want them to even think there might be anyone following. Birkan, take your quarter and flank the right side of the force, stay out of sight. Klus: same thing on the left," the three captains nodded their understanding.

"I'll keep the last quarter as reserves. If you run into problems, Hendle merge your men with Klus and Birkan. I'm going to borrow a couple of Genidians from Komier. The horn blast will be the signal to attack," Sparhawk finished.

The battle was short and vicious. The advanced party lasted about three hours under the flawlessly executed ambush of the Pandions. A fair number of the force immediately surrendered, most of the time was spent chasing down the fleeing mercenaries to keep them from getting word to the additional force behind Ehlana's procession.

Sparhawk sighed as he returned to the royal pavilion that evening. The next two days would prove more difficult than today. According to the Pandion and Genidian scouts the force behind the procession was about four times the size of the advance party, and they would not have the element of surprise. Already the following force had picked up speed; they would close in on Ehlana's procession in a day and a half.

Komier and Ulath were already in attendance when Sparhawk arrived. Ehlana stood up and ran to Sparhawk enfolding him in a fierce embrace before she pulled back wrinkling her nose.

"You smell positively awful Sparhawk!"

Sparhawk smiled; relieved his wife was talking to him again.

The next day was spent in preparation. Ehlana and Danae were bundled up and sent with five score of soldiers directly to Chyrellos. The rest of the procession followed at a slower pace. The church knights remained behind to confront the advancing force. The Elenian grasslands weren't a particularly good place to ride out a siege. Despite this fact, Ulath suggested setting up semi-formal fortifications.

"It's not like I _enjoy_ sieges, Sparhawk," Ulath explained, "But you have to take into account that there may be more mercenaries coming. When Martel stormed Chyrellos he had an army about ten times larger then this group. In my humble opinion, I think it's another advanced party."

Sparhawk frowned. "Larger force or not, Ulath, we're in the middle of nowhere. Trust me, we do not want to hole up here; the ground is too flat to give any type of advantage."

"Trenches then," Ulath countered.

Sparhawk groaned. "Fine. I'll send over some of my captains. Let me know when you're done."

"Hold on, I didn't volunteer to organize the trench building!" Ulath protested.

"Actually you did, Ulath." Sparhawk said with a dangerous gleam in his eye.

Ulath chose not to protest further. To Sparhawk's relief, he also refrained from further suggestions. After Sparhawk sent several captains to meet with the Genidian champion the trenches immediately started being dug. Sparhawk continued to the Pandion standard where, to his chagrin, he found his squire cutting a lance. Several completed ones were stacked neatly next to him.

"Dirkeim, I told you to accompany Ehlana and Danae to Chyrellos," Sparhawk said slowly, grinding his teeth to keep the irritation out of his tone.

The young man looked up at him with an expression of faint disapproval. It reminded Sparhawk sharply of Kurik.

"I sent Jayen with them instead. Milord should not go into battle without a squire. Have no worry; Jayen's one of our best; Her Majesty and Princess Danae are in very capable hands."

Sparhawk took a deep breath and slowly released it as he studied his squire's serious, stoic expression. Dirkeim might be infinitely more polite than Khalad; but all Kurik's sons seemed to have inherited their father's inherent stubbornness.

"Fine." Sparhawk said, choosing not to divulge the fact that he wanted Dirkeim in Chyrellos because he was concerned for the young man's safety in addition to his wife and daughter's.

Waves of nerves and anticipation rippled through the Genidian and Pandion camps as the day drew to a close. Swords were sharpened and armor was polished. The cries of sentries calling out their watches could be heard in the still air. The men were quiet, conversing in muted tones as soldiers wound themselves tight.

_Tomorrow the church would unleash her wrath..._

_Heaven help her enemies._


	7. Surrounded continued

Author's Note: Please see disclaimer in Chapter 5. Umm, well at least it's longer? I will have more Talen/Aphrael action in the next chapter, which I started before this one, but it got confusing so I decided to finish this one first, so stay tuned for the next one. I am about half-way through it so it should be up this week.

I absolutely love reviews and suggestions so please keep them coming!!

**Chapter 6: Surrounded (continued)**

"Prince Sparhawk we have a problem."

Sparhawk woke up to a rough hand shaking his shoulder. He rolled over to see one of his captains leaning over him with a lantern and an incredulous expression. The Pandion Champion slowly rubbed his eyes and sat up from his small cot.

"What is it Hendle?" Sparhawk asked his captain.

"We were hoping perhaps you could tell us. None of us can really make any sense out of it," Hendle answered. Sparhawk rolled out of his cot and reached for his armor. Dirkeim beat him to it. Appearing out of nowhere his squire handed him his breastplate, followed by gleaming gauntlets and Sparhawk swiftly suited up.

"Do you know what's going on Dirkeim?" Sparhawk asked.

His squire shook his head his expression bemused. "There are lights in the sky…strange ones, they don't look natural. I've never seen anything like it milord," Dirkeim frowned meeting Sparhawk's eyes. Sparhawk laid a reassuring hand on the young man's shoulder as he stood to see what caused his captain and squire such concern.

It was apparent as soon as the grim Pandion stepped out the tent. The few soldiers that were awake at the early hour had their eyes fastened on the sky, riveted to the sight. Sparhawk looked up following the sentries' line of vision and suppressed a gasp at what he saw. The stars glistened in their usual diamond-like appearance, but the normally ebony sky was streaked with lavender and indigo sheets that pulsated and shimmered with vibrant color. The hues ebbed and flowed across the sky like the rocking waves of the ocean.

With difficulty Sparhawk tore his gaze away from the entrancing expanse and frowned pondering the strangely shifting sky. He turned to his squire who was still staring up in wonder.

"Dirkeim go wake up Ulath quickly!"

With a curt nod Dirkeim set off in the direction of the Genidian camp. A few minutes later he returned rubbing his jaw with a disgruntled looking Ulath close behind. Sparhawk raised an eyebrow at the scowling blonde knight. His hair was unbound from its usual braids and the pale locks rivaled Ehlana's in length.

"I really hope whatever you want was important enough to wake me. I was having a really nice dream…" he growled.

"Perhaps about a certain dressmaker?" Dirkeim said coolly, continuing to rub at his jaw.

Ulath's scowl deepened as he turned a shade of red so bright it could be seen in the darkness.

"I think, sir Dirkeim…" he said very slowly, menace dripping from every word, "…that it would be best if you refrained from talking to my niece so often. Otherwise your continuing health might be in danger… not to mention the use of a working jaw."

Sparhawk chose to clear his throat at that moment, heading off a potential argument. Finally obtaining the slightly hostile Genidian's attention, Sparhawk pointed at the sky.

"Ulath, does that look anything like the lights you get up in Thalesia?" he asked.

The tall knight looked up, whistling lightly before answering. "Somewhat," he finally said. "But the ones in Thalesia are green and they streak the sky; they don't blanket it," he continued, turning back to Sparhawk. "How long has this been going on?" he asked.

"The sentries noticed it an hour into fifth watch," Dirkeim said, returning to his observation of the sky. Sparhawk frowned. He had hoped Ulath would be able to shed some insight on the odd spectacle. With a battle that would be starting up in a matter of hours, Sparhawk had to know whether or not he should be concerned about the strange phenomena. Coming to a decision he didn't particularly like, he began making the gestures to summon Aphrael.

"_Make it quick, Sparhawk, I'm busy."_

"_Sorry Flute,"_ Sparhawk thought silently, _"But I have this small problem of an army advancing, remember?"_ The goddess gave a long-suffering sigh.

"_Nothing major,"_ Sparhawk continued, _"But the sky looks strange. Wavering and shimmering in bright colors. It's so ostentatious that it practically screams Styric,"_ he added.

"Be nice Sparhawk," said a huffy voice next to him. Where one moment there was only air, a beautiful Styric girl stood next to him, pipes in her hand as she looked up at the sky.

She frowned biting distractedly on a lock of hair. Finally she shook her head, coming to some sort of conclusion.

"It's not an illusion, but it's not natural either. I'll be back; Setras knows more about these things than I do."

The child-goddess abruptly vanished leaving Sparhawk groaning. If there was any Styric god more frustrating to deal with besides Flute it was her cousin, Setras. Several minutes later she arrived with the perpetually befuddled god in tow. She was speaking to him rapidly in an unfamiliar language and gesturing expansively at the sky. Setras looked up and bit his lip as his eyebrows contracted in thought. That action appeared to be painful for the handsome god. Finally he nodded and looked down at Flute.

"Echelessa." He said.

Sparhawk had never seen that reaction in the child-goddess. First she gasped, and then she went very pale, opening her mouth twice before any words came out. The things that did come out of her mouth were barely comprehensible even though she spoke in Styric. She was shaking Setras by the shoulder as he shook his head adamantly, eyes tinged with fright.

"I'm sure Aphrael," Setras said, his voice quivering. "She's the only one who could do it…that type of thing is completely beyond me, when protons get to that energy state it takes incredible precision to get them to react properly," he rambled on nervously.

"Flute!" Sparhawk ordered crisply to get her attention, "What is Echelessa?" he asked.

Flute looked up at Sparhawk silently, her eyes wide with a look that resembled fear, and shook her head violently refusing to answer his question. The Pandion knight folded his arms and glared at her.

"I want an answer _now_ Flute," he pressed implacably.

An inhuman shriek pierced the air jerking Sparhawk from his impatient wait. He looked up to the violet hued sky following the path of the sound.

A large creature filled the purple sky, its visage as black as ebony. It had a solid form, but its outlines were blurred with clouds of greasy black smoke. It had a long snake-like head and appendages protruding from its back that might have once been wings. A thin line of pulsating red cracked along the head, then opened wider as the thing shrieked again.

"What in god's name is_ that_?" asked Dirkeim.

"That's Echelessa's pet Onyx," Flute supplied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll take care of it," she continued nodding resolutely. With that she lifted her pipes to her mouth and started playing a complicated melody that modulated between major and minor keys.

The beast in the sky seemed to take notice of the sound and began to twitch back and forth. Suddenly, several bright lights appeared in the sky. They stretched to form bright rents in the indigo sky, bleeding with pale light.

Sparhawk rubbed his eyes as forms emerged from the tears. They were various familiar- looking animals, sharing the single distinguishing characteristic of incandescent white coloring. He immediately recognized the doe and with a start realized that other creatures from Aphrael's reality had also appeared.

A hulking white tiger emerged from one of the light tears. His coat gleaming with otherworldly brilliance, the pale tiger bounded for the Onyx. Easily closing the distance the black-striped tiger inclined running through air as if it were a solid surface. With an earth-shattering roar the tiger barreled straight into the raging monster. The tiger's formidable weight caused the Onyx to recoil, while at the same time a pure white eagle with gold tipped wings dove down into the top of the Onyx's back, opening a gash in the creature. The wound sprouted strange scarlet clouds instead of normal blood.

The fight that ensued was ugly. Aphrael's creatures outnumbered the Onyx, but Echelessa's pet was enormous and easily batted away the attacking animals. All the while Flute's pipes played in the background, and even as her attacking animals were injured, the dire looking wounds would close up and the creatures would rise to attack again.

The strange battle finally ended when the tiger ripped open the throat of Onyx, the creature's inhuman scream cut off. The black shape wavered and fell apart, dissipating into the air. The blankets covering the sky rolled back and the stillness of night returned.

Flute continued to play for a few minutes as her animals returned back to the light tears and vanished. Finally the light itself began to pulsate and shrink until it too was gone. The child-goddess lifted her pipes from her mouth as she finished playing and sighed deeply.

"It starts." she said sadly. Grabbing Setras around the arm she vanished without another word.

The sun crested the horizon an hour later without any sign of the approaching army. Sparhawk remained awake, unwilling to sleep after the previous battle. Flute's final words echoed around his mind, putting the Pandion Champion on edge. Sparhawk was certain he could handle something as simple as a normal army, but supernatural elements made him wish he still had Sephrenia around. Bereft of Bhelliom Sparhawk was at a disadvantage around these things even if he had the cumbersome title of Anakha.

Sparhawk spent the morning inspecting the trenchworks. Ulath had worked the diggers late into the night to finish, and the Genidian knight had added quite a few surprises for the approaching enemies. Trenches cutting through the middle of the field, there was plenty of room for the mounted knights to charge and flank the enemy cutting off any room to maneuver. The trenches provided the covering needed for the Pandion and Genidian archers to pick off the front lines and then retreat to the next line.

After the first line of trenches was complete Ulath had grinned evilly and suggested that the diggers fill them back in with loosely packed soil and grass. After that the whole surface was carefully disguised to look like the rest of the ground. The archers were all given stakes to leave within the trenches in addition to the ones set up in front.

It was far from perfect, but it was defensible enough. According to the Genidian scouts, the numbers of the approaching force was larger than initial estimated; Sparhawk's force was outnumbered roughly five to three. It shouldn't be a major problem as the scouts reported only a third of the force was mounted while the rest were infantry. Sparhawk's jaw flexed. He hated fighting on so much open ground. The lack of cover made the Pandion slightly apprehensive.

Apparently he wasn't the only one who was tense. Komier was busy bellowing last minute orders to his soldiers as his men darted around trying to please their irritated preceptor.

"Good morning, Komier." Sparhawk greeted the shouting Genidian.

"Prince Sparhawk," Komier nodded a quick greeting, then promptly went back to shouting.

Accepting that he wasn't likely to receive much conversation from him, Sparhawk set off to find Ulath. The blonde knight was standing over several of the trenches, his arms crossed as he studied them for last minute adjustments.

"I think your enjoy this more than you let on," Sparhawk observed.

"It's the novelty of it…pretty difficult digging a trench when the ground is frozen solid," Ulath answered shrugging.

Sparhawk nodded. "They look like they'll slow the…"

The Pandion was cut off as several knights raced toward him. The enemies had arrived.

--

Whoever had romanticized war as a poetic field full of invincible knights beating down monstrous enemies had obviously never been in a real battle. The fighting was far from glorious. The knights were well trained and formidable, but their number would be fewer when the battle was over. Most would carry fresh scars to compliment old ones, not to mention the inner lacerations. Their enemies were men, and men had faces, men had regrets and those faces and those regrets haunted those whose stern duty was to snuff out the light of the living.

Death was administered in a messy cacophony of chopping and thrusting and severing of vital limbs. Thanatos came not with a scythe, but with swords and lances and stakes.

The trenches, along with its hidden surprises, were a major success. The front lines of the attacking mercenaries fell completely for the trap. The soldiers following tumbled over their comrades, bringing the advance to a minor standstill. This left the archers to pick off the exposed enemies at their leisure.

What Sparhawk had not anticipated, however, was the experience of the approaching force. It sorted itself out in short order, continuing to advance, and never falling for the same trick twice. The archers and other knights on infantry duty had pulled back to the third line of the trenches. As midday approached, half the approaching forces were down, but the reserves hadn't been sent in, meaning they still had two thirds to clear.

The men were tiring. If the battle wasn't complete tonight there would be a problem. Supplies were low and the defensive lines were continuing to retreat. However, the approaching force had time on their side; they had been slowly and meticulously pushing the Pandion defense back without sacrificing their numbers. Sparhawk looked around. He had to find a way to get the enemy to commit their reserves _now_.

He thought for a moment and came up with it, but he would need help. Sephrenia had done something like it a few times before but she had better concentration than he did. Spotting his squire further down, he called to the young man.

"Milord?" asked Dirkeim as he galloped over.

"I need at least five Pandions advanced in the Secrets. Get three for me and tell them to meet me due east beside the eleventh line." Sparhawk instructed quickly. With that Sparhawk rode east picking up the other Pandions on the way over.

Dirkeim and the three others joined him shortly.

"Alright, we are going to create an illusion of three more Pandion contingents. They will be split into two groups on flanking either side of our trenches," Sparhawk pointed, indicating the trenches where men where fighting.

"I'll start the illusion, all you have to do is hold it until the enemy commits his reserves. Got it?" he asked. The men nodded and Sparhawk set to work weaving his fingers in the intricate gestures to create the illusion. Soon the other Pandions picked it up spreading the illusion to create more men and more noise.

Only a few of the other knights looked up in confusion. Apparently, Dirkeim was quickly spreading the word about the plan. Absently, Sparhawk noticed his squire had left when he started the illusion, but couldn't afford to divert his focus from what he was doing. The illusion was held for three quarters of an hour before the enemy committed the reserves.

Signaling business as usual, the Pandions and Genidians did what church knights do best; hacking, slashing and chopping. However, for some reason, Sparhawk felt ill at ease even as he broke through line after line of well-trained mercenaries. Then he looked up and saw something that nearly made his heart stop.

Dirkeim was surrounded.

Dirkeim had been severely wounded with a concussion and several broken ribs. He was on a cot in a pavilion set up for the wounded. No matter how many times Sparhawk had tried to summon Aphrael, the child goddess would not respond, leaving the Pandion Champion deeply troubled.

So he sat, head in his hands, wondering once again this week whether or not he would lose one of Kurik's son. Ulath sat quietly nearby, content to offer company without forced conversation. Suddenly a loud commotion outside and sound of galloping hoof beats caught Sparhawk attention.

Rising swiftly he ran down to the end of the tent, Ulath right on his heels. Outside several Pandions surrounded a rider who Sparhawk recognized as Rhamik, Kurik's second eldest. As soon as the rider saw Sparhawk, he dismounted and ran over.

The young man bore several cuts and bruises and the dark circles under his eyes indicated that he had been riding non-stop for several hours.

"Milord…the…chapterhouse…" he began breathing heavily and swaying.

Sparhawk grabbed the young man by the shoulders to steady him. "Rhamik what's wrong? What's going on?"

The young knight looked up, his eyes bright and slightly feverish.

"Milord, the chapterhouse is under siege."


	8. Gods and Mortals

Author's Note: See? Finished today! Reward me! I worked so hard, so please review!

(Also I don't own anything, please see previous disclaimer in Chapter Five.)

**Chapter 7: Gods and Mortals**

"Absolutely not!" Talen exclaimed vehemently. "Actually, neither of you need to come with me; this trip is insanity."

Everyone was back in Aslade's kitchen where Talen had mistakenly informed Berit that he was leaving.

"Do not be ridiculous Talen; we must come with you. Who knows what challenges you are likely to come against? That sword of yours can not solve every problem," Olet said calmly.

"…and I will say it again. If Olet goes I'm coming as well," Berit interjected.

Talen sighed and threw up his hands in disgust. He turned in askance to Aphrael who, for some unknown reason, had returned with him to Kurik's house. She was sitting sedately on the table, her legs crossed at the ankles. "Can you please tell them that their presence isn't necessary? I can handle this alone."

Aphrael had a faraway expression in her eyes. Anyone who didn't know her would attest that fact that the Styric goddess had not paid attention to any part of the conversation. Talen, however, knew better.

"Are you done arguing with them yet?" she asked sweetly, "Because we will need to get everyone horses and supplies; not to mention we need to pick up Kyyis from the chapterhouse."

Talen glared at the beautiful goddess, his expression dripping with irritation. She in turn, treated him to a slightly smug smile as she hopped down from the table.

"Seeing as this, along with the entire rest of my life has already been decided upon, would you mind telling me who else will be coming on this 'task of great import'?"

"You'll see," she answered cryptically.

A strangled sound escaped from Olet; sounding suspiciously like a stifled laugh. Berit looked over and raised an eyebrow. "One point for Aphrael," he said to Talen.

Talen winced as Berit and Olet began laughing uproariously.

"Aphrael," Olet asked, finally controlling her laughter, "I thought you preferred taking the form of a child. Why do you look like an adult?"

Talen grinned as the smug expression fell off of Aphrael's face.

"Trust me," she said, "It was not _my_ idea. Did I ever tell you that your god is exceedingly tedious and unreasonable?" she added with a pout that Talen found unnervingly adorable.

"Only in every other word," Berit said under his breath. Aphrael glared at him.

Olet quirked an eyebrow. "What in the world do you owe him, Aphrael? I mean he's making you steal your family's secrets, parade around in your true form; and who knows what else."

Talen made a quick mental note to reassess his list. Any one who could make Aphrael bristle and literally steam at the ears should be a contender for the top slot.

"No one _makes_ me do anything." Aphrael said frostily. "I have my own reasons for needing to see the Concordia writ," she said sniffing with an offended air. "And for your information I need to use this form anyway. Flute's busy at the moment."

Talen frowned. "Busy…now? Wait, you can be two places at once?" he asked.

"Of course," she said in her infuriatingly condescending tone. "It's not really all that difficult," she said, looking at her long, slender fingers. It was probably why she was so talented on the pipes, Talen noted absently. To his chagrin, the young knight found himself studying her fingers intently. Hastily, he pulled his eyes away to stare out the window.

Berit had been watching the exchange silently for the last few minutes. He shook his head, suspicion in his sapphire gaze. Aphrael narrowed her eyes at the blonde Pandion.

"What?"

Berit shrugged. "So what has Flute so tied up?" he asked.

Aphrael looked as if she would provide another cryptic, flippant answer; but decided the better of it.

"Flute's sitting in on one of the Thousand's gatherings. The meetings have been going on for the last several weeks."

"Wait, why do you have to be there?" Talen interrupted. "Why don't you have Sephrenia fill you in when they're done?"

"If you would be so kind sir knight, as to hold your tongue, I will be happy to finish…" Aphrael said crossing her arms primly.

Talen rolled his eyes and motioned for her to go on.

"Sephrenia is not in Sarsos. She and Vanion are in Chyrellos at the moment, hence my presence at the Thousand's counsel. And _no_ I will _not_ tell you why Sephrenia and Vanion are there, as it's none of your business," she said causing Talen to close his mouth and scowl. She slid down off the counter with an easy grace and looked at him expectantly.

"Are you ready then, or shall we argue some more?" she said, tapping one impatient foot.

--

The mid-afternoon breeze was warm and scented with the spicy, sweet fragrance of spring. Arcium was a devastatingly beautiful country, its southern location and mild climate giving rise to sheaths of heather and lavender swaying gently in the wind. The day was bright with white clouds set against a perfectly cerulean sky.

Talen reflected, as he did whenever he had the opportunity to come to Arcium, that the reason the Cyrinic knights where the most devout of the four orders was because they had their very own piece of heaven. Cimmuria was perpetually overcast; grey, gloomy and vastly overpopulated. Could anyone blame him for becoming thoroughly corrupt? It was a flimsy excuse and Talen liked to use it as his theological platform. The argument that weather was the basis of the Alcione knight's devotion drove sir Bevier absolutely nuts. Talen smirked. The olive skinned knight looked rather comical when he turned beet red.

This, of course, reminded him of his own religious experience, complete with a lovely goddess who just happened to be riding behind him, her head leaning against his back and arms wrapped around his steel-clad waist. Talen turned his head back to study her, something he wouldn't have dreamed of doing had she been fully conscious.

As it was, she was drifting in the semi- comatose state she had been favoring for most of the trip. Her dark eyes were half lidded her small face framed by thick dark hair that fell in long waves past her waist. When Talen had asked why she needed to come with him to the Alcione chapterhouse she shrugged and said they needed to get there quickly.

Talen had never gotten used to the way Aphrael manipulated time while they traveled during the previous journeys in Eosia and Daresia. To Talen it seemed that they were moving at a snail's pace, only to arrive at their destination days, or even weeks, earlier than scheduled. He found it difficult to process how the half-sleep goddess managed to pull it off. Talen smiled, Aphrael reminded him of a snoozing Danae at the moment.

"She's so _small_." Kyyis' statement interrupted Talen's thoughts.

Kyyis had been bringing up the rear, while Berit and Olet rode abreast several yards ahead of Talen. The Pandion thief lifted an eyebrow at his brother's observation.

"Well, she is," Kyyis pointed out.

"So?" Talen asked irritated for some reason he couldn't identify.

"So? So what?" Kyyis snorted "You expect me to believe that this tiny woman delivered ultimatums to those hideous troll gods and insulted not one, but _two_ elder gods? That she bossed around the Bhelliom?"

"She did!" Talen countered. "And for the record she looked like a six year old child at the time."

"I don't know Talen; I just thought that she would be, you know, a little more imposing?" Kyyis said, scrunching up his face. "Or at least a little bit taller…" he mumbled under his breath.

"Keep talking Kyyis," Talen warned. "You might inspire her to prove how powerful she really is." he continued.

Kyyis scoffed. "Excuse me if I'm not threatened by a miniscule little girl."

Talen glared at him. Kyyis returned it with an insolent half- smile. "Looks like a certain princess might have some competition; you're rather defensive of your goddess."

Talen groaned. He didn't really want to argue with his brother but he could not let the last comment simply pass.

"She is _not_ my goddess. And for the last time, I am _not_ getting married to Danae. Not now; not _ever_." Talen hissed through clenched teeth.

"No need to get angry, Talen." Kyyis said shrugging. "I just call it like I see it, and right now there's a beautiful woman using you as a pillow. What should I think-" he commented dryly.

Aphrael chose at that moment to open her eyes fully. "Can you two _ever_ stop fighting? You boys sound like a pair of honking geese."

Both Pandions sputtered at the same time.

Aphrael sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Elenes."

--

They made camp that evening in a small clearing beside the road. Talen had volunteered to take the first watch, leaving the others to sleep. Underneath a sky partially obscured by wispy clouds, Talen sat in front of the crackling fire feeling restless and full of questions.

"You know, when you think really hard your forehead wrinkles up," said Aphrael as she leaned forward and pressed her fingers lightly against Talen's brow.

The feeling of her soft fingers between his eyes made Talen jumpy and he quickly brushed her fingers away with his own. Aphrael leaned back and smiled at him tilting her head to one side as she studied him. The firelight played in her eyes, wide and dark and fathomless.

"Can I ask you a question?" he said to her tentatively.

She nodded. "You're free to ask anything you like."

"Anything?" Talen said, his eyes glinting mischievously.

"Of course. But then again, I may or may not answer." Aphrael said giving him a small grin.

Talen leaned back, putting aside his original question for the time being. There _was_ always one thing that he wondered about.

"Alright," he started. "Here's my question: What was the first thing you ever stole?"

Aphrael continued to study him. "I _could_ tell you," she said, "but what will I get in return?"

Talen looked up sharply; the earlier conversation with his brother echoing in his head. Maybe he should be more careful with the goddess? Talen knew from experience that she was devious. After a brief battle, Talen's curiosity got the better of his common sense and a lazy grin spread over his face.

"Will the usual payment suffice?" he asked.

A smile lit up the goddess' face causing her to glow with exquisite radiance.

"You first." Talen said, suddenly very nervous.

"Of course. The very first thing I stole was…a baby." she said.

"A _baby_? Why did you steal a baby? Was he important? What was his name? When did you steal it?" Talen asked, her answer elevating his slight intrigue into full blown prying.

She simply shook her head laughing at his response. "It's a long story, Talen. I _might_ be persuaded into telling you, but that will cost a _lot_ of kisses."

Talen simply returned the grin as he stood from his perch in front of the fire. He slid one arm around the Styric goddess waist and leaned in. He brushed the outline of her ear with his upper lip causing Aphrael to flinch.

"No Aphrael," he corrected, "Trust me, it will only cost _one_," he whispered against her ear.

He captured her lips with his own, feeling her softness and a distinct taste he couldn't identify. The kiss started softly enough, the brief meeting of lips, a shared breath. Talen slid his tongue over her bottom lip, his desire gentle but clear. Mingled breaths heated, he leaned in pressing harder, sucking on her bottom lip, demanding entrance. Aphrael's lips parted slightly, and Talen slid into her mouth.

Talen almost broke the kiss as her taste sent his mind reeling. Dizzy, images came to him, color and sound and memories vivid enough to step into. He sensed his awareness expanding and his body felt light and weightless. He could hear the hectic drumming of his own heartbeat but it sounded distant and far away. He pulled her in closer, drowning in her ambrosia, kissing her deeper even as his lungs clamored for air

Suddenly, Aphrael pulled away, her eyes desperately wide. Still feeling a little dizzy, Talen warily shook his head and gave the goddess a slightly wobbily grin.

"Will you tell me the story now, or do I need to kiss you again?" he said, attempting to dredge up a cocksure attitude he didn't really feel.

"Story…definitely…story," she said, looking a little lightheaded herself. Talen dropped to the ground as the knots in his stomach slowly untied themselves. The fact that Aphrael was reduced to one word sentences was somewhat comforting.

The Styric goddess took a deep breath, lost in thought. Unconsciously she slid her slender fingers into her long glossy hair and drew them out at an angle fanning the locks out as the silky tendrils slipped through her fingers. Talen's breath hitched at the sight. He caught himself and shook his head again to clear it. He _really_ needed to stop kissing pretty goddesses. It was wearing on his common sense.

After a few minutes of gathering her thoughts the Aphrael knelt next to Talen and began her story.

"Well it all started because we were bored. Epallus figured it might be fun to pretend to be mortals; at least it would pass the time."

"Whose Epallus?" asked Talen.

"Another member of my family." Aphrael shrugged and continued, "So that's what we did. It wasn't really serious, and at first we didn't interfere with anyone while down there. We would just go and wander around. There were fairs twice a year when the larger clans would meet up and trade…"

"Clans? Like the Peloi?" asked Talen.

"Yes, but the clans were more widespread, not like it is now. This was a long time ago."

"How long ago?"

"The numbers wouldn't mean anything to you, Talen. Now can you stop interrupting?"

Talen nodded and leaned back making himself comfortable.

"Well, we were at the fair and a young woman was abducted by a bunch of cutthroats. They wanted her for obvious reasons. Epallus decided to interfere and managed to rescue her."

"He had been…fairly creative with the rescue. He sort of gave himself away, so we had to leave. Epallus got in trouble with the rest of our family for wandering around mortals. Back then, we had strict rules about that."

"Unbeknownst to any of us, Epallus periodically checked up on the woman he saved and eventually they became friends, and then more."

At this, Talen raised an eyebrow. A god and a mortal? The thought was more than a bit unnerving to him.

"Apparently he covered his tracks well, because none of us suspected a thing until Epallus' lover became pregnant," Aphrael continued.

"_What?_ That…that can actually _happen_?" Talen said sitting up.

"Yes," Aphrael answered, "Epallus was the first, though. It had our family pretty shaken up."

"What happened?"

Aphrael looked down. "After his son was born Epallus' lover was executed."

"You let them do that?" Talen exclaimed.

Aphrael's eyes filled with tears. "I found out about it too late," she said softly. "I was busy trying to figure out how to get the child back."

"So that's the baby you stole." Talen said, comprehension dawning.

She nodded. "They took the child to the Hall of Maescul, the same place where the Concordia writ lies. Epallus begged me to get his son back for him."

"The Hall can only be opened with the agreement of the five, or the two ciphers. The first time I used the form of a child was then. After much persuasion I was granted permission to see the baby alongside another one of my family members. I was supervised of course, but I did a lot of planning before hand."

"In order to divert attention, I threw a temper tantrum in the middle of the hall. While everyone was distracted I set off an illusion of a shadowy imposter grabbing the child and running out the Hall. Needless to say everyone went after the shadow, so I stole the baby and left."

"My family was so distraught they didn't realize the whole scene was an illusion. Everyone assumed Epallus had taken the baby back, but I was actually the one who swiped it." Aphrael gave herself a smug smile and continued.

"Instead of leaving the child with him, Epallus insisted I take the baby to his mother's family, so I did. Epallus must have done something to throw of the rest of my family off because they never found his son." Aphrael finished.

"Well? Did Epallus do anything to get revenge?"

"Yes," said Aphrael. "Yes he did."

"What happened?" Talen asked.

Aphrael shook her head. "I'll tell you another time. Go get Kyyis. It's his turn for watch."


	9. Interim Preceptor

Authors Note: I can't tell you how sorry I am for the late update. Believe it or not, I am still here. I don't have internet access which is why this took sooo long to post...but thank you so much for all the reviews! More coming....

I don't own anything in the Eddings universe. Nothing.

**Chapter 9: Interim Preceptor**

The Pandion Chapterhouse was burning.

Dark, sooty smoke filled the flame illuminated sky as the sound of cacophony and distress filled the courtyard of the Demos Chapterhouse.

On the ground organized chaos reigned as the well-trained Pandions systematically slaughtered through an endless sea of oncoming mercenaries. It was a motley assembly of fighters, but the most troubling concern was that some of the soldiers were wearing the Dieran coat of arms.

Brow drawn tight and face set in a dark blend of anger and determination; the Pandion preceptor looked over the battlefield from his astride his horse. The northwest sector of the surrounding wall had caved in from the initial explosion earlier in the evening but the resulting fire prevented the encroaching force access to the Chapterhouse. The fire would have to be controlled and contained before anyone would be able to storm the grounds.

Khalad estimated that would take about two hours. For now, that was the least of his problems. The east gate was barely holding and could soon be destroyed by the battering rams that drummed in an unrelenting, rhythmic staccato that would only end when the gates were utterly decimated. Khalad estimated that to be less than half an hour away. Still the gates were not the most pressing of his concerns.

Reports earlier that morning had indicated there was an army heading for Chyrellos and would likely intercept the Pandions traveling there in the middle of the open plains. Khalad had dispatched a messenger to warn Sparhawk and Queen Ehlana but the preceptor had not received any indication that the message was given in time. When the mysterious army had materialized around the Chapterhouse earlier that evening, Khalad dispatched additional messengers; one was sent to contact Ensen in the capital city of Cimmuria. Khalad had made a difficult choice and sent his younger brother Rhamik to find Sparhawk and inform him of the new danger.

The army that suddenly appeared around the Chapterhouse had taken Khalad by complete surprise. However, the Preceptor quickly took steps to fortify his position and launch a counterattack. Unfortunately, the enemy had been prepared for just such action. As a result a full quarter of his men were quickly cut off from the other Pandions and forced to maneuver away from the Chapterhouse. Now Khalad had no way to get his men back into the Chapterhouse for a protracted siege.

"Preceptor Khalad, sir," called one of the knights as he rode up to Khalad, saluting.

Khalad gave the knight a brief nod to report.

"Sir, Sohsen and Lydal are here."

"Tell them to meet me in my office, immediately!" Khalad ordered the knight. He turned his horse around and headed toward the dormitories.

Leaving his horse with one of the novices, he quickly made his way up to his office. Lydal and Sohsen were waiting for him.

The dark-haired, grim-faced Pandion preceptor slammed his hand down on the table.

"How many of our men are still out there?" he asked the knight in front of him.

"Around ten score, sir."

"Can we get them out?" asked Khalad.

The knight shook his head as the one next to him answered.

"Sir, most of the men are entrenched in the front lines. We were able to get the mounted knights back in, but most of the ones still fighting are on foot. They're committed..."

The scout's sentence was cut off by a growling that filled the room, causing both men to recoil in alarm. Khalad forced himself to stop; an enraged Preceptor was not what his men needed right now.

"Any word from any of our messengers?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Again, the first knight shook his head. "Nothing, sir."

Khalad slowly blew his breath through his nose, struggling to keep concern for his brother in check.

"Very well," Khalad said, nodding. "Sohsen go help with the retreat. Lydal come with me!"

Leaving his office, Khalad quickly made his way to the top of the walls surrounding the Chapterhouse. The northwest sector of the wall was still burning, but the fire had been partially controlled. The oncoming mercenaries were most concentrated on that side, but the fire proved to be a two-edged sword, the searing blaze barring passage through the blasted wall.

Khalad felt his blood pounding hard in his ears as he watched the gory skirmish. A few short years ago he would have been one of the men fighting down in those fields. Now, every last knight's life was in his hands. He had a difficult decision to make. The thought of leaving the men outside to the mercy of the vast force sickened Khalad, but his common sense quickly forced him to act. He sighed, already feeling the weight of the guilt that would haunt him to his grave.

"Lydal...tell captain Odnir to close the north gate."

-----------------------------

Olet had frantically ripped Talen from an unusually deep sleep to let the young knight learn there was something wrong with the Aphrael.

"I have tried everything I could think of, sir Talen, she will not open her eyes!" the lavender eyed woman said frantically.

Immediately alert, Talen ran to the tent Olet and Aphrael shared, every remnant of grogginess gone. He bent and attempted to wake up the goddess. Having as little success as Olet, he then tried to summon her with the Secrets but only silence answered his call.

Opening his eyes he found himself staring into Berit's cerulean ones.

"Anything?" The blonde Pandion asked.

Talen took a breath and opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Taking another deep breath he shook his head, still unable to find his voice. Aphrael _never _ignored his summons. Ever. Suddenly he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder, shaking him slightly. Talen blinked his eyes, dazed. Berit was talking to him.

"...and put her on your horse. If we hurry we can make it there in a couple of hours..."

Talen nodded mutely as he gently picked up the unconscious goddess and carried her out of her tent.

"...will she awaken?" Olet asked Berit, concern in her voice.

Talen looked down at the goddess he carried in his arms. She seemed so..._ fragile_.

"I'm sure someone in her 'family' will be able to help...Talen and I request from her directly, but the Cyrinics request from Romalic..."

Talen only caught bits and pieces of the conversation as he carefully placed the slumbering goddess on his horse and climbed up behind her.

"...break down camp and catch up with you..." Talen recognized Kyyis' voice volunteering to stay behind.

A few seconds later all he could hear were the thundering hoof beats of three horses.

The Cyrinic Chapterhouse was the largest building for miles in any direction. Its immensity was mitigated by the surrounding landscape that incorporated every type of native flora and fauna. As a result, the Chapterhouse more closely resembled a massive garden overflowing with a sea of perennials, hyssop, and lavender. The spicy-sweet scent carried further than the massive Chapterhouse could be seen, the smell belying the true nature of those who dwelt there.

The heavy perfume left Talen weak with relief as the three riders drew closer to their destination. As the structure came into view, Talen heard one of the mounts pick up speed. He could see Berit's blonde hair in the distance, riding ahead to alert the guard.

Talen himself fought the urge to ride faster, concern for the goddess in his lap forcing the young Pandion to keep his horse moving at a moderate pace.

After what seemed like hours, Talen, Aphrael, and Olet arrived at the gate. It was open, Berit having arrived a few minutes beforehand to explain the situation. Several Cyrinic Knights, gleaming in their trademark white surcoats came to assist them. Talen dismounted from his horse and waved away the knight who had stepped forward to carry Aphrael.

"You had better let sir Talen take care of her divinity, sir knight, I do believe he will allow no other." Olet said to the knight, who hastily stepped away after seeing who addressed him. The others knights turned toward the lavender eyed woman and quickly retreated, some going so far as to make warding signs. Olet simply lifted an eyebrow and smiled slightly.

"Is the Preceptor here?" Talen asked, his voice slightly edged with violence.

The first Knight looked between his comrades and the newcomers warily and nodded.

"This way, sir Talen, the Preceptor awaits you."

The knights turned and led Talen down the hall that circled around the courtyard. Olet followed silently at a distance, her face carefully blank.

The door of the Preceptor's office was open and Talen could hear several voices. Two were as familiar to Talen as his own, but one he didn't recognize. It was definitely female, and its lilt and cadence sounded oddly similar to someone he had heard before. The Cyrinic knights stopped to the right of the Preceptor's office, allowing Talen and Olet to enter, unconscious Aphrael in tow.

A dark-haired, olive skinned man stood from behind the large oaken Preceptor's desk and came around to greet the trio, concern in his equally dark eyes.

"Talen! My god, Berit just informed me! How long has she been like this?"

Talen looked up at sir Bevier, the interim Preceptor of the Cyrinic knights and sighed.

"As far as I know since this morning. She was fine last night, but this morning when Olet and I tried to wake her, she wouldn't rise. I even tried to summon her but that didn't work either."

"Why don't you lay her down here?" Berit said stepping forward and indicating a cot set up nearby.

Talen had been carrying Aphrael since he dismounted but had failed to notice how tired his arms were until that moment. He carried the unconscious goddess over to the cot and laid her gently down.

"Don't worry sir Talen; Aphrael has been rather busy of late. I'm sure she is merely overextended, she can only tend to so many matters at once."

Talen turned toward the new voice and did a double-take.

"Sephrenia?" he asked, bewildered. In front of him stood one whom he thought was Sephrenia, but Talen wondered why she was at the Cyrinic Chapterhouse. The woman tipped her head slightly at him and laughed.

"Oh no, no, no, but you do me much honor to mistake me for my mentor," she said, smiling. Realizing that the woman was not Sephrenia, Talen noted the subtle differences between the young woman standing in front of him and the former Pandion tutor.

"I am Y'phira," she continued, "Though I have been mistaken for the High Priestess on occasion."

She gave Talen a slight curtsy and seated herself beside Aphrael's still form. Closing her eyes the young woman laid her hand on the goddess's head. She then began singing what Talen guessed to be a Styric hymn. Talen frowned and looked up questioningly at Berit who gave an imperceptible shrug.

"Lady Y'phira is our new tutor in the Secrets." Bevier supplied, quiet so as not to disturb Y'phira's song, "She came to us only a few months ago, as our last tutor was becoming a bit addled by old age—and don't worry, Talen, she come highly recommended." he assured Talen, who was looking hard at the young woman.

Talen broke his gaze from the Styric tutor and looked up at Bevier. "Will she be able to help her?" he asked.

Bevier nodded confidently. "Of course. She studied under Sephrenia herself. I am confident she will be able to handle this."

"In the meantime," Berit interjected, "Talen has something imperative he needs to share with you."

Talen glanced between Berit and Bevier and sighed. "This is going to be a long day."

----------

"A task of great import? What is it?" Bevier asked as he absently examined Talen's quartz disc.

"I was told I have to steal this thing called a 'Concordia Writ' but I have no idea why, so don't ask."

Bevier, Berit and Talen were seated in Bevier's den. The place reminded Talen more of the library archives at the Palace in Cimmuria then a nice place to relax. But then again, Talen surmised, studying was what Bevier did to relax. Similar to Cimmuria's archives, various parchment rolls where stacked inside small cubicles built into the far wall. The adjacent wall housed shelves that were packed tightly end to end with thick historical tomes. Actually, just about every corner in the spacious room was stacked with books; several left open with markers in the pages.

Instead of a traditional easy chair and perhaps some other comfortable seats, two long, rectangular tables were set up. Each was covered with open scrolls and half-written journals.

Talen felt slightly ill.

"Steal it? Why in heaven's name would he…" Bevier voice intruded on Talen's thoughts.

"I don't know!" Talen interrupted before Bevier proceeded into a full-fledged lecture, or worse, a sermon. "I'm pretty sure he has a good reason, but I don't have to foggiest idea what it might be."

Frowning, Bevier slid his hand through his thick, dark hair. "Well…what is this Concordia Writ?"

Talen shrugged. "Apparently it's some holy artifact for the Styrics. I'm sure Aphrael can explain it better when she wakes up."

"Do you know anything about ciphers, Bevier?" Berit asked.

"Generally yes," Bevier answered, one of his eyebrows dipping. "They are a type of key used for decoding. "

"Apparently we need two in order to get the Writ." Talen said. "Our pale-eyed friend said you would be able to assist us."

Bevier rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Let me look into it, the notion of Styric ciphers sounds vaguely familiar for some reason."

Berit stood up. "I am going to check on the ladies." he announced.

Talen also stood. "I guess I'll come with you then, I doubt I'll be any help to Bevier. Just looking at this place is giving me a headache."

Bevier laughed. "Fine I'll let you know if I find anything useful."

With that, the two men departed climbing the stairs to where Y'phira and Olet were caring for Aphrael.

The first unconscious body they found was in the hallway leaning against a wall. Alarmed, Talen knelt down and shook the man hard. He didn't budge. Looking up at Berit wide-eye, the two men raced down the rest of the hallway. In regular intervals more unconscious Cyrinic knights lay slumped over each other, but still breathing.

Within a matter of minutes they closed the distance to the Preceptor's office where Olet and Y'phira were with Aphrael. Berit flung open the door, practically tearing it off its hinges and they both entered, swords drawn to attack.

They were greeted by a very-irritated looking Olet as Y'phira backed into a corner looking scared.

"Oh for goodness sake put those swords away at once!" Olet demanded.

Berit and Talen gave each other a pained look and sheathed their swords.

"What happened this time?" Berit asked sighing.

Olet narrowed her lavender eyes at Berit and remained silent.

"Er…Olet?" Talen asked carefully.

"Yes, sir Talen?" she answered never taking her eyes from Berit.

"Did you by chance take a head count of the men you knocked out?"

"Twenty four…and a half." She answered through clenched teeth.

"…a half?" Talen whispered to himself, concerned.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" asked Berit again, "Or should I just ask lady Y'phira?"

Olet groaned and threw her hands up in the air. "They were _vexing _me. All I was trying to do was get some supplies to help Lady Y'phira with Aphrael. Those…mongrels… thought I was trying to enchant them or turn them into toads or some other nonsense like that. They set up a parameter and tried to _arrest_ me! I was merely defending myself, how was I to know more would come running when I…"

"I see." Berit interrupted sitting down heavily in a chair "My love, how long will they be out?"

Olet looked down at her fingers and tapped them together anxiously.

"Olet…" Berit asked again.

"I'm positively sure it will be no more than a day and a half for the first set…" she answered a slight twinge of guilt in her voice.

Talen shook his head, still _very _concerned over the implications of the one-half. "Don't worry Berit," he said, " I'm sure Bevier will be studying for a long while yet—gives you plenty of time to think up a reason why a bunch of his knights are unconscious. ..again."


	10. Council

Author's note: Yes I'm slow as molasses. Sorry it took so long to update, forgive me...I have reasons...they're not very good.

I own nothing but a little bit of lint in my pocket...please review

**Chapter 10: Council**

The sky was dark and overcast with mutinous sunlight vainly attempting to slice through the dense, stubborn clouds that continually marred the sky of Cimmuria. Rising to grand peaks were the equally grey towers of the palace. Despite this, the bright flowers of spring and clinging, climbing vines of ivy launched a successful rebellion against the dour colorlessness with riots of vibrant shades and hues. The bright flora had been insisted upon by the Queen; a woman whose presence was now sorely missed.

"You cannae be serious, mate," Ensen said, disbelief written plainly across his face, "The Chapterhouse? Under siege? What bloody fool lays siege to a place full of deadly killers?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Ensen, but the messenger said some men in the force wore the Dieran coat of arms," Kalten answered.

The earl's eyes widened in shock as he took _that_ particular news in.

The two men were seated in a small office set off from the acting Earl's formal audience chamber. Furnished with neutral beige and golden and maroon tapestries, this particular room was often used for confidential meetings between members of Queen Ehlana's privy council. A formal desk overlaid with black marble stood at the far end of the room and dozens of lit candles gave the room a warm glow.

"Do you think it's a declaration of war?" Ensen asked.

"From Diera? No I seriously doubt it, but anything's possible." Kalten answered scratching his ear.

Ensen sighed, "What can Obler be thinking?"

"Like I said, anything's possible. In the meantime we need to look to our own defenses," Kalten said.

"What about the Chapterhouse? Will we leave them at the mercy of this army?"

Kalten looked down and shook his head. "I'm no military expert, Ensen, but even I know we can't leave the capital undefended, especially if armies are suddenly materializing out of nowhere."

Ensen nodded. "Of course you're right, mate. Did you send anyone out to Darellon to find out where he stands?"

"Yes," Kalten answered, "I sent the same messenger that was sent to us, I didn't want the events garbled by mistellings."

"I think it's high time that we call for an emergency meeting of the counsel, ye ken mate? We must decide what course to take next, especially with the Queen's absence."

A tap at the door caused both men to look up.

"Enter," Kalten called out.

The large door banged open, and a large rotund man swaggered in. He was elegantly decked out in a matching forest green hose and doublet. He leaned on a polished white cane which he carried for purposes neither supportive nor aesthetic.

"Hullo there, gentlemen," Platime said, "I've got news from the underground."

"Take a seat then," Kalten said, "I'll get the kitchen to throw something together for us." He added, winking.

Platime took a seat in one of the plush chairs as Kalten rose to give an order to a nearby page.

"I'm anxious to hear of any news ye have, Baron Platime, Ye've not been in the palace since the annual council meeting." Ensen said nodding at the heavy-seat leader of Cimmuria's underworld.

Platime laughed aloud. "No, I haven't have I? But that's a story for another day isn't it? Besides, I'm sure you gentleman are far more concerned with what's happening at the Pandion Chapterhouse."

Kalten wasn't surprised at Platime's knowledge of the siege. He was, after all, the head of the Queen's intelligence. "Platime, do you know anything about why Dieran soldiers are involvement in the siege?"

Platime's face grew grim as he nodded. "Aye, I've just got some men back from that way. The reports are bad news… King Obler and his son have been assassinated."

Both Kalten and Ensen where thunderstruck and both men started asking questions at the same time.

Platime merely shook his head and raised his hands to silence them. "These are only initial reports, I expect the rest of my men to be back within the fortnight, and we will need to hold council, obviously. The direct witnesses will come to testify."

Kalten nodded; council it was, then.

-----------

Sir Tynian sheathed his sword and looked down from the golden dome of the Basilica. Chyrellos spread before him as inch by inch of the marvelous city became exposed by the rising sun. From so high, the city looked particularly lovely as elegant spires rose toward the skies and the morning bells signaled dawn's arrival with peals of vibrant ringing.

"It's quite beautiful in the morning, isn't it?"

Tynian turned toward the familiar voice. There before him stood the legendary Vanion, former preceptor of the Pandion order of the church knights.

Tynian grinned, radiating his characteristic cheerfulness. "Well meet, Vanion!" he said gripping the auburn man's hand.

"Indeed, well meet sir Tynian! I can't say I'm surprised to see you in Chyrellos. I've heard that Darellon's running you ragged trying to get this tourney off the ground."

Tynian sighed. "That's too true, and I have been waiting forever to see Sarathi. I need his permission in order to go any further. But no one's been allowed to see him for the last several days."

"So you're left to cool you're heels, is that right?" Vanion asked smiling.

Tynian nodded. "What about you? I doubted anyone would see you again anytime soon, let alone in the holy city. It's...well..."

"Blatant heresy?" Vanion supplied, laughing. "Yes, well truth be told, Dolmant asked that we, or rather, Sephrenia come here to help him with a problem."

Tynian's eyebrows arched up. "Problem? What kind of...wait did you say Sephrenia was here, too?" He asked as his mouth curved up into a grin.

Vanion returned the grin, his youthful appearance making him look especially mischievous. "Yes and I do believe it's high time for those two to take a break."

As the men came down the flight of stairs, however, they heard a commotion coming from outside. Vanion turned around and exited the colonnade hall, Tynian right on his heels.

Like tea pouring into a stainless white cup, obsidian-clad Pandion knights were filling the courtyard of the Basilica. In perfect synchronization they formed up around Queen Ehlana and a small group of her retainers.

"I must see the Archprelate at once," Ehlana's rich, vibrant voice carried across the courtyard, "There is an army coming!"

-----------------------

The door of the preceptor's office opened with ominous quiet and a bland looking Bevier stepped through with a large-leather bound tome in his left hand.

"Pray tell, why is every guard along this corridor completely unconscious? Talen?" asked Bevier in a deceptively calm voice while giving Talen a pointed look.

Talen and Berit exchanged a quick glance. "Sorry Bevier," Talen lied quickly, "I mispronounced the spell to keep our conversations out of earshot."

"Ah...as you say," Berit said, though his tone said otherwise. He shot a puzzled glance at Olet, who was still fuming. He then turned to the young Styric woman in the corner, Y'phira, who hadn't quite regained her composure.

Bevier's bland look turned into a dark frown as his gaze lingered on the Cyrinic tutor's pale face. He quickly crossed the room and put an arm around her shoulders.

"I am truly sorry for your fright, lady Y'phira," Bevier said and looked up at Talen and Berit with a dark glance. "I assure you, while my friends are somewhat _misguided_ they will allow no harm to come to you."

Talen and Berit both nodded affirmatively, not missing the underlying order in the preceptor's words.

Y'phira gave him a small smile. "The high priestess said Elene knights could be a bit...a..."

"Barbaric?" supplied Berit, smiling a little.

Y'phira flushed a shade of pink. "Well, that wouldn't be the exact word...but...the way the knights charged at mistress Olet, I..."

Any blandness left in Bevier's face evaporated as he turned to Olet. "I beg your pardon? My men charged at you, Mistress Olet?"

Olet folded her arms and stared at Bevier with a blend of anger and defiance in her narrowed lavender eyes. "Yes, your knights charged at me. Of course it would seem a perfectly sensible thing to do...kill the witch and burn her at the stake! Of course, what is not sensible in the least is the belief that the said witch is incapable of defending herself when all her burly protectors vacate the premises."

Bevier listened to Olet's angry rant in silence. When she was done he crossed the room to stand before her. He covered his heart with his right hand and bowed low. Straightening he met her gaze which was wary.

"Mistress, as preceptor of the Cyrinic Order of the knights of the Church I extend my deepest and most heartfelt apologies for the unjust and absolutely absurd actions of my knights. I hereby take full responsibility for the offence, though I do intend to take those responsible...to task. In the meantime I beg forgiveness and ask if I might be of service to you in any way."

Olet's eyes widened and she laughed. "To task, sir Bevier? I should truly enjoy seeing that, as such I will forgive you the offence and consider witnessing the responsible party taken to task as remittance enough."

"Unfortunately, you don't have time Olet."

Talen turned toward the familiar voice with a surge of relief. The thin cot that Aphrael had been laying on was now empty. Flute, however, sat sedately on the large oaken preceptors desk, grass stained feet crossed delicately at the ankles.

Talen was torn on whether to throttle her or hug her. The latter was decided for him as the child-goddess collected a plethora of kisses from everyone present in the room. Seating herself again on the preceptor's desk, she clapped her hands twice.

"As soon as Kyyis gets up here we will hold counsel; we have many things to discuss." Flute said.

Talen shook his head. He had completely forgotten Kyyis in the scramble to the Cyrinic chapterhouse, now that he thought about it, Kyyis should have arrived hours ago. Just then the heavy door opened and Kyyis entered.

"Where have you been? You should have arrived right behind us!" Talen articulated his thought.

Kyyis raised an eyebrow. "There wasn't really anything I could do for Aphrael, so I decided to stop in town to restock our provisions. Just because a certain person only uses a tiny part of his brain to think doesn't mean the rest of us can't be practical and think ahead."

Talen ground his teeth in an effort not to punch his brother, as a challenging grin spread across Kyyis' face. Kyyis was much better in a fistfight than Talen.

"Be nice." Berit murmured.

Flute rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh that said 'Elenes'. "Seeing as how Kyyis is now here, perhaps Bevier could share what he found in his research?" she said aloud.

All eyes in the room turned toward the Cyrinic preceptor. Bevier nodded at Flute and opened the tome he was holding.

"This is from the annals of the early Archprelate Listrages I. This was in the earliest times the hierarchy of the church had been established. Listrages I was the third Archprelate appointed."

"They have annals back that far?" Berit interrupted. "That was even before the Zemoch war!"

Bevier nodded and continued. "According to his annals, a treasure of incredible value was won as tribute from a Styric tribe know as H'va-ken. These annals don't go into much detail about the treasure but it's clear it wasn't material goods and Listrages is rather secretive about it."

"Light and lore violence has carried away," Y'phira said softly "The children of H'va-ken to whom were entrusted the knowledge of the ages are come to naught in the trial of blood, death, and fire. Weep now of their passing, for the loss of part lessens us all." she finished.

Y'phira's words had changed the atmosphere of the room. Talen felt the heavy weight of sorrow deep in his bones. As the Pandion thief looked around he noticed he wasn't the only one.

"Where did you learn that, Y'phira?" asked Flute looking at the young woman intently, "That lament hasn't been sung for seven generations."

The Styric woman looked confused. "I'm not sure Aphrael, it just came to me..." she drifted off.

Aphrael's brow drew together in thought, finally she addressed the preceptor. "Bevier, did Listrages say where this treasure was located?"

Bevier looked back down at the tome. "No...at least not here." he looked up then, a pensive expression on his face. "But this is only a copy of the annuls and an incomplete one at that. The originals are in Chyrellos. I'm pretty sure we'll be able to find out a clue about the location if we can get a hold of the complete annals of Listrages I."

Flute smiled and clapped her hands again. "Pack up ladies and gentlemen, we're going to Chyrellos."

"Divinity, if I may?" interrupted Olet, "How do we know that Listrange's treasure is connected to the cipher's we are searching for?"

Flute sighed. "Like Y'phira said, the H'va-ken tribe were knowledge keepers. They knew about the ciphers. We could ask them directly but they happened to be completely annihilated by Elenian Church knights about a millennia ago, or so. All H'va-ken's knowledge and secrets were confiscated by the Elene church."

"I though Styrics pretended followed oral tradition, Flute." Talen said confused.

"Yes, Talen," Flute sighed again, "And Hva-ken is why."

"We will leave at first light then." announced Bevier.

"Actually it would be better if we leave tonight." said Flute.

"Why?" asked Kyyis.

The child-goddess looked somberly at each of them. "…Because we need to beat the army to Chyrellos."


	11. Road To Chyrellos

Author's Note: Here's the next chapter, sooner rather than later! Please review, please, please, please!

And I own nothing…nada…zip…

**Chapter 11: Road to Chyrellos**

Sparhawk looked quietly down at the map in front of him. Early morning light strained through the tent flap shading his face in half light and half shadow and giving his austere features an intimidating cast.

Sparhawk felt his age today, not merely because of the physical trials of the battle the day before; but also the strain of worry he felt for Kurik's sons, sons which might as well be his own. Then there was Sparhawk's_ own_ family. They were safe at the moment, but there was an army coming.

Sparhawk's Pandions were the only ones standing between it and Chyrellos.

Located on the grass covered plains part-way between Demos and Chyrellos, the Prince Consort studied his men's position on the map. According to Rhamik, Two days after Sparhawk left Demos a large force of freelance mercenaries and Dieran royal soldiers appeared less than a league away from the Chapterhouse.

How the army had arrived at the Chapterhouse doorstep with no warning to posts and sentries worried Sparhawk to no end. He wondered hew Khalad was holding up. Rhamik, along with a messenger to Cimmuria, had been dispatched soon after the army was spotted. There was no telling if the army would be able to materialize directly outside the gates of Chyrellos or if they would need to come through Sparhawk's force.

As Sparhawk continued to study the map a soft step behind him caused him to look up.

"Good morning milord," Dirkeim said politely.

The young man's arm was cast in a sling, but otherwise he was none the worse for wear. A ghost of a smile lighted Sparhawk's face considerably as he turned to greet his squire, clasping his uninjured hand.

"You look a fair deal better than you did yesterday! When did you wake up?" Sparhawk asked.

"Just a few minutes ago, milord. I was having the strangest dream though; I was in a really beautiful place with animals that talked and a sky the color of rainbows. I thought…I thought that I had died." Dirkeim said looking off into the distance.

Sparhawk didn't even bother to raise an eyebrow, but muttered something about conversion and thieves to no one in particular. Dirkeim gave him a slightly baffled look as he joined him by the map.

"Will we start building fortifications today, milord? Rhamik said that the main body of the army would by coming, depending on how long they attempt to siege the Chapterhouse." Dirkeim said, looking at Sparhawk inquiringly.

Sparhawk shook his head. "No. I don't think we will. Rhamik reported that the army materialized out of nowhere. After what we saw the night before last, I am inclined to believe him and…"

Dirkeim interrupted, "What happened the night before last?"

While Sparhawk filled him in, they were joined by Rhamik and Ulath. The latter immediately took a seat as the tent could barely accommodate the Genidian's large hulking frame. Both men waited patiently until Sparhawk was done recounting the details of the previous battle. Ulath chimed in after Sparhawk's story left Dirkeim in total shock.

"So don't bother looking for my niece, she's keeping Queen Ehlana company in the holy city."

Dirkeim's stunned silence slipped into a scowl of disappointment that he hastily masked. Ulath's jaw tightened as he stared hard at the injured man. Rhamik broke the silence.

"Sir Sparhawk? Are we going to start building fortifications?"

Sparhawk lifted his amused gaze from regarding his squire and the Genidian champion. "No. As I was telling Dirkeim, we are not dealing with any normal army. This is a force that can appear out of nowhere without being detected."

"Chyrellos," said Ulath.

"Beg your pardon, sir?" asked a perplexed Rhamik.

The big Genidian knight turned to Sparhawk. "What your illustrious leader is getting at is that at any instant, this so called army could emerge anywhere. What's stopping them from landing right outside the walls of the holy city?"

"Or inside for that matter," mused Dirkeim.

The faces of the four men darkened at that thought.

"Our enemy must have some limitations," pointed out Rhamik. "They weren't able to materialize_ in_ the Chapterhouse, and the army you took out looked like they were scouting ahead. Why would the enemy do that if they could just land inside the city?" he continued.

"The advanced force may have only been a decoy," Sparhawk answered. "I can't take a chance on what the enemy may or may not be able to do, I have to assume the worst, which is that they can get inside Chyrellos at any point,"

"So we are going sir?" asked Dirkeim.

"Yes, and quickly too -- Once we've reached Chyrellos we can set up defenses in the city…it isn't as if we haven't done it before." Sparhawk responded solemnly as he recalled the last time the holy city had been besieged.

Ulath nodded in agreement and rose to leave. "I'll inform Komier about the new plans. Our column will be ready to move by midday."

"Good," Sparhawk said, "Rhamik, you and Dirkeim gather up the captains for debriefing."

As the sun reached its zenith, the remaining contingent of Pandions and the column of Genidians began moving at a swift, ground eating pace, to close the distance on Chyrellos.

Sparhawk hoped they would arrive in time.

-------

Talen's journey to Chyrellos proved uneventful. As the group traveled northeast the weather grew less mild, though spring was still in full swing. The spicy, sweet scent of the Arcium countryside gradually changed as the party approached the heavily populated juncture of the five nations surrounding the holy city. As they drew closer, all too human smells permeated the air.

According to Talen's tally their party had been traveling for eleven days, meaning they were likely to reach Chyrellos in about three and a half days. When he had tried to ask Flute about the army they need to beat to the Church seat, the child-goddess was oddly reticent. She rode with Olet now, her expression distant.

Gradually Talen was drawn out of his own thoughts as his brother's questioning voice caught his attention.

"So do you know Sephrenia very well?" Kyyis was asking Y'phira.

"Yes, she and sir Vanion took me in after my village was destroyed," the Cyrinic tutor answered.

"What happened to your village?" Olet asked.

"A rouge magician sent it up in flames. No one knew why…about a third of the villagers, including my parents, died," she answered.

"I am very sorry," said Olet as she reached across to squeeze the young woman's hand.

Y'phira smiled. "Thank you. It happened awhile ago, I was only twelve, but I had some aptitude in the Secretes so Sephrenia took me and a few others on as apprentices. I studied with her for the next several years."

"So when did you become the new Cyrinic tutor?" Talen interjected, "Don't they request from Romalic?"

"The Cyrinics do request to Romalic, sir Talen," Y'phira answered. "I of course belong to the same goddess my mentor does," she said, smiling affectionately at Flute. "But the basic incantations are essentially the same, you see."

Talen nodded. "But each younger god has their specialty in the more complex spells, right?"

Y'phira tilted her head slightly. "This is true…there are many, many spells to utilize, and each of the younger gods have the ones they prefer."

Bevier who had been listening quietly spoke up. "Don't worry Talen, lady Y'phira's not going to teach the Cyrinics the Pandion order's Secrets." He said, smiling a bit.

Y'phira turned to Talen and vigorously shook her head. "Oh no sir Talen, I learned the specific set of Cyrinic spells from Sephrenia before I left--She's well conversed in most of the spells of the Younger god's, she even knows some spells Aphrael doesn't."

Talen's eyes widened and he turned to Flute. "Is that true?"

Flute blinked and turned toward the now silent group regarding her. "Of course she knows more spells than I do," The child-goddess said petulantly. "I don't usually need them, she does."

Olet pressed further, her curiosity piqued. "I have yet to meet the high priestess though I have heard much about her. Is she as well versed in the Arcane branch of the Secrets?"

Flute turned and gave Olet a measured look. "Her knowledge isn't as...er..._thorough_ as yours Olet, I seriously doubt anyone's is, but she knows a few old spells you've never even heard of."

Olet turned a dark shade of crimson that almost hid her eager expression.

Berit smiled nervously and laughed. "Don't give her any ideas Flute!" I really don't want to spend the next few years with her newest experiments.

Talen was rather deeply concerned as he had been the recipient of one of Olet's experiments, and he had no desire to spend_ any _more time as a small rodent. Some of Talen's trepidation must have shown in his face because Bevier asked if something was wrong.

Berit started laughing. "Talen's just remembering the last time he drank one of Olet's concoctions."

Olet frowned at Berit "Must you always remind me of that?" she asked, "The label was clearly marked! Besides I apologized to Talen most profusely for it!"

"Apologize to Talen for what?" Kyyis demanded.

"Never mind." Talen said sharply, looking at Berit and a contrite looking Olet.

A piping laugh filled the air. Flute was smiling largely. "How could I ever forget, Talen?" she said. "You were so cute as a chipmunk!" she continued gaily.

"A chipmunk?" said Kyyis in disbelief and then double over in hysterical laughter.

Everything went downhill from there.

----------

Having made good time, the party arrived in Chyrellos on the evening of the third day. The lower halls of the Basilica were lit and Talen was surprised to see several Pandion knights milling about. He and Kyyis dismounted and crossed the courtyard while Bevier and Berit remained behind to help the ladies unsaddle.

Kyyis greeted the nearest Pandion. "Seten, well met," he said grasping the man's hand.

"Why are so many of us here?" Kyyis asked

Seten filled in the two young men. Disturbed by the news, the brothers left the Pandion knights in order to find the Queen. Genuflecting quickly at the altar they made for the stairs.

"What's going on?" asked Berit, whose long stride had easily caught up with Kurik's sons.

"A skirmish with what looks like an advanced force," Talen informed Berit as the men climbed the broad, red-carpeted stairs. "Sparhawk and Ehlana were on the way here to discuss an upcoming tourney when they were set upon by a force of mercenaries and Dierans."

"Dierans?" Berit asked dumbfounded.

"According to Seten, yes." Kyyis interjected as the men continued to head to the Basilica's formal audience chamber. "He was there during the attack. Sparhawk sent him and the other Pandions here ahead with the Queen. The just arrived this morning..."

The three Pandions arrived at the candle lit chamber and seated themselves on the plush chairs and were soon joined by Bevier.

"I took Olet and Y'phira to the quarters reserved for Preceptors. They should be quite comfortable there," he said sitting down.

Talen frowned. "I think Flute's been tampering with time again." Seten said it has only been four days since we left the Cyrinic Chapterhouse."

Just then the door opened and several familiar people came into the room. Queen Ehlana along with Archprelate Dolmant and the Alcione knight, sir Tynian, entered the room.

"Talen, Kyyis!" Ehlana exclaimed as she walked forward to embrace the tow young men and drew back sharply and wrinkled her nose. "You two need to bathe! You smell like rusty tin cans and horses."

Everyone laughed as greetings were exchanged and news shared. Finally sitting down, Talen addressed himself to Dolmant.

"Sarathi," he asked, using the Archprelates' formal name, "I was hoping I could get some assistance. I need to get a hold of the original annals of Listrange I. Bevier said the originals are here in the Basilica."

Dolmant looked at Talen quizzically. "Yes…the annals of most of the earlier Archprelates are here locked in the archives of course, but sir Talen, what business do you have with those dusty old tomes? Surely you would rather gather some information about this approaching army. I daresay we could use some information right now."

Talen frowned, wondering how much he could share with Dolmant before he got locked away in a monastery for heresy. Talen decided not to chance it. "There may be a connection between this force and what I'm searching for," he replied glibly to a surprised looking Dolmant. "But of course I was going to suggest sir Bevier do the actual research since he is the preeminent scholar among us. If that's alright with Preceptor Bevier, or course," Talen said with an appealing look to the Cyrinic knight.

"I would be an honor to work with the sacred archives." Bevier said.

"I've spent some time in the archives before," sir Tynian offered. "I could take you there and help you find what you're looking for."

"Then it's settled!" said an enterprising Ehlana. "Bevier can find out about the old Archprelate and Talen can go find out about this new force," the Queen suggested, clapping her hands. "Well? What are you waiting for gentleman?"

The knights filed out after Queen Ehlana's dismissal and milled in the hallway outside the audience chamber, talking anxiously.

"Let's go, Kyyis," Talen said, grabbing his brother's arm, "We got our orders."

Following his younger brother, Kyyis grumbled irritated. "From what I heard, you got _your_ orders. I don't know why_ I_ have to follow you around..."

Talen ignored him as the two men made their way around the back of the Basilica quietly going out a little know exit.

Despite the late hour, the streets of Chyrellos were far from deserted. Being at the center of several cultures had its effect on the holy city as vendors lined the streets selling good originating from the northern reaches of Thalesia to the tip of Cammoria.

Talen, of course, was very comfortable in crowds as many opportunities for the swift transfer of wealth were made possible by the close proximity of people. Talen couldn't quite suppress an urge to appropriate certain trinkets for himself from an especially pompous idiot.

The two young Pandions made their way to the rundown buildings of Chyrellos' east sector. These were her ghettos, and indeed the underbelly of the holy city was one of the most dangerous places in Elenia.

Talen walked into a storefront which, ostensibly, sold general goods. The inside, of course contained said goods, but most of the items were covered in about three inches of dust.

A large, burly, menacing looking man stood behind the counter cracking his knuckles loudly. Talen walked toward him.

"Can I 'elp you sir?" the large man said darkly.

Talen gave him a half-smile and looked around the store. "Nikelle isn't here is she?" the young Pandion asked in his most charming manner.

"No she's not." The man said, folding his arms across his chest as he attempted to stare Talen down.

Not showing the least bit of concern, Talen leaned against the nearest shelf and returned the shopkeepers glare with a mild gaze. The burly man scowled. "If you've got no business here I suggest you leave."

"And if I do have some business?" Talen countered.

The man continued to scowl as he eyed the two armored knights. It was clearly apparent that he was debating something in his head. Talen had a fair idea what it was and what the logically conclusion would have been. But, then again, cutthroats weren't necessary the most logical people. At last the man shrugged as he stared at Talen suspiciously. "Suit yourself." he mumbled.

"Talen," Kyyis said quietly. "Why are we here, anyway?"

Talen shook his head slightly as he continued to regard the other man. The silence stretched out for several moments before the shop door banged open and tow more burly figures entered the store. Behind the counter the shop keeper began to grin maliciously as the men who had just entered closed the distance to Talen and Kyyis.

"May I suggest again that you leave? This is no place for the likes of you" the shopkeeper snarled.

The next moment the shopkeeper's air passage was cut off as he found himself hoisted bodily off the floor by his collar.

"How about instead of me leaving, you go downstairs and tell Odonor that he has a guest?" Talen suggested mildly as he continued to choke off the man's air supply.

The shocked shopkeeper looked around Talen's head for assistance but his backup lay slumped together on the ground while the dark haired knight dusted his hands off with glee.

"Ready to get moving?" Talen said to the shopkeeper.

The terrified cutthroat nodded vigorously and Talen abruptly dropped him. The burly man sprawled on the floor. Getting hastily to his feet, he withdrew a key from his pocket and opened the door behind him. Talen and Kyyis followed the man down a flight of creaky, dimly lit stairs to a moldy cellar. From the other end of the damp room light peeped out from under a door. Crossing the cellar the shopkeeper opened the door.

Immediately, Talen was assaulted with the smell of alcohol, smoke and the stink of unwashed bodies. Pushing past the shopkeeper, Talen crossed the room to a short, thin weasel faced man who sat in the center by a roaring fire, his feet set above him as a shabbily dressed whore sat massaging his feet. He looked up as Talen entered and grinned broadly.

"Ho boy! Haven't seen you in far too long! Come and pull up a chair wit old Odonor! Whose yer friend?"

Talen went forward and sat down across from Odonor, sweeping his hand around to indicate Kyyis. "This is my brother, Kyyis. Unfortunately he's a bit narrow-minded when it comes to transferring of ownership, but he can keep his mouth shut and is passable in a fight."

The weasel faced man nodded to the Pandion as Kyyis took as seat next to Talen.

"Well, let's get to business my young friend," Odonor said rubbing his hands together, "What can I do for you, and more importantly, what's in it for me?"

Talen negligently tossed Odonor a heavy gold bracelet the Pandion thief had picked up earlier. The thin man caught it expertly with his right hand.

"We just need a change of clothes, "Talen said, "Something a littlie less ...ostentatious."

Odonor nodded absently as he carefully examined the gold bracelet. He waved a hand and a couple of women left the room.

"And Odonor?" Talen added, "Be on the lookout. I heard a rumor that there's an army heading this way"

Odonor looked up suddenly and nodded. "That would explain some things," he said, "I assume you and your friends are going to do something about that?"

"We intend to, though were a little lacking on info." Talen said.

"Did you hear about King Obler yet?"

Talen shook his head.

"Assassinated. Him and the crown prince."

Talen shot a look at Kyyis and motioned for Odonor to continue.

"Looks like an inside job; it may be one of the younger cousins vying for the crown, Lefiet's next in line so the evidence is pointing to him."

"Lefiet?" Talen asked, startled at the familiar name

Odonor nodded. "From what I've heard there's more than one faction strong enough to take the throne, Diera's chaotic at the moment."

Just then two heaps of clothing were dropped in front of Talen and Kyyis. It was a hodge-podge of non-descript clothing and included dark voluminous cloaks.

"Come on Kyyis, time to do some reconnaissance." Talen said excitedly.

Kyyis groaned.


	12. Evening Recconaissance

Author's Note: Whew, my last update was in January [author hangs head in shame.] Really, really sorry about that, but my computer access is limited…so anyway here's the latest installment, I haven't forgotten about it. Reviews encourage me to find new and inventive ways of getting my stories typed and posted so review, review, review! Even if you just want to tell me how much my story sucks!

Oh yeah, Elenium and Tamuli belong to Eddings…

**Chapter 12: Evening Reconnaissance**

Talen was in his element as he hugged the dark shadows of the dripping, damp back alleys of Chyrellos. Of course, he enjoyed combat just as much as the next one, but Talen had been raised on the streets. His classroom had been noisy taverns and dilapidated buildings; his teachers cutthroats and pickpockets. It was whole society composed of values fundamentally opposed to everything that was considered good and proper. Sure, it was dangerous and had its disadvantages, but it was outweighed by the thrill and intrigue. Not that a knight's life was without it's share of excitements, and the politics of Elenia brought intrigue to an entire new level. Still, there was something distinctly pleasurable and slightly addictive about slinking around a city at night.

"Is there anything in particular we're looking for or are you just getting me dirty for nothing?" Kyyis asked wiping his soot covered hands on his pants.

Talen made an impatient gesture for Kyyis to be quiet. "Just look for nervous looking characters will you?" Talen hissed.

Kyyis rolled his eyes as Talen went back to his observations. An intermittent drizzle had made the streets slick and slippery. Less people milled around as the night grew late and the sky grew darker. Something caught at Talen's peripheral vision, and tipping his head slightly he caught a ghost of a figure ahead. For some reason he had a spark of recognition. It _couldn't_ be. His mind reeled at the possibility.

Still he was a knight. It was his duty to make sure. Turning, Talen tapped his brother on the shoulder and put his finger on his lips. Creeping forward he made his way toward a dark clad figure slinking against the walls ahead of him. As the Pandion thief drew silently closer he ground his teeth in tension as his hands balled into fists. He really hoped this wasn't who he thought it was. Finally at arms length Talen reached out and grabbed the shoulder of the figure in front of him.

A distinctly feminine shriek confirmed Talen's suspicions as the young woman's hood fell back from her face revealing a pair of dark, indignant eyes.

"Oh you big brute! Why in the world did you grab me like that?" the dark eyed woman demanded as she readjusted her cloak. Talen just looked at her hard, a hazy red fury keeping him silent. The woman, however, seemed to have no trouble expressing herself.

"I mean really, Talen, you nearly ruined my cover!" she said blatantly ignoring his speechless fuming. As if seeming to remember something, she continued, "What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were busy taking a nap in Demos?" she said stamping one foot and putting her hands on her hips.

Talen exploded, forgetting at once that he was on a reconnaissance mission. "What am _I_ doing here?" Talen sputtered, "What in the name of god are _you_ doing here, in alley way in the middle of the godforsaken night? Are you daft? This is no place for a princess, Danae! Where the hell are your guards?"

The newly revealed princess waved a hand dismissively and sighed. "As you can see perfectly well, Talen, I am just checking things out, I thought I might get some info while I'm here. I don't see why you have to get all huffy about it…"

"Huffy?" Talen interrupted, incensed. "Danae, these streets are dangerous! It's no place for a little girl."

"I am not a little girl!" Danae shouted, stamping her foot again.

Despite his anger, Talen found a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he stared down at the princess. Her head barely reached his chest, but she was glaring up at him as if she were ten feet tall.

"Little or not, you are going back, now." Talen said turning around and pulling her with him.

Danae balked. "I'll do no such thing. I'm not done here yet!" she said with a toss of her head.

"Yes you are, princess, and I'm taking you back to your mother."

"No you're not, Talen," she responded confidently. "The last time I checked I outrank you, so if you will kindly unhand me, I would like you to accompany me until I am quite finished."

Talen let go of the petite princess and folded his arms across his chest. "I see several holes in you logic, my lady. I'm not too attached to the rules anyway. Besides I'm sure Queen Ehlana will forgive my lapse in proper etiquette."

Danae frowned, but her expression changed to a smug smile. "I'll just get out again; there isn't a door or lock that can hold me."

Talen knew far too well, he had been the one to teach her to pick locks, though oddly, Danae was an amazingly adept student and ended up showing Talen some new methods. He let out a resigned sigh as he realized this battle had been lost before it started.

"Fine Danae, have it your way. Kyyis is with me. I want you to promise you'll stay close to one of us at all times…and for goodness sake don't get into any mischief!"

The Elenian princess gave him a blindingly beautiful smile, which Talen privately admitted was rather breathtaking. Not that he would ever tell Danae. The dark haired woman followed Talen back to where he left Kyyis.

The cloaked knight was giving the pair a strongly disapproving glare.

"You know…you both are rather _loud_. This is a reconnaissance mission, may I remind you?" Kyyis said acidly.

Talen put up his hands, "I didn't mean to shout, it's just that I found…"

"…Danae, I know. I head you, as did everyone in a three block radius." Turning away in irritation, Kyyis trudged down the alley. Groaning, Talen turned and gave Danae his best 'it's all you fault look'. She didn't acknowledge him; instead she studied her nails intently.

"Come on," Talen muttered and went to catch up to his brother. The three hooded figures moved gingerly down the slick streets, stopping every few minutes to observe the comings and goings of different people. Fortunately for Talen, he had a sixth sense on such things; the way people moved, the inflections in their voices, the furtive glances – these were all a gold mine for the prospecting thief. Unfortunately, Talen was unable to pick up any additional information about the army coming. He only hoped that Bevier and the others had been more successful in researching Listrange's annals. He idly wondered how he would explain to Queen Ehlana what the approaching army had to do with a long dead Archprelate.

Perhaps he could distract her with tales of her daughter's nightly escapades. He checked over his shoulder. She was competently following and making very little noise. It was a little disconcerting for Talen. She was supposed to be royalty; yet here she was, navigating the streets and picking up information as if it was second nature.

A faint light ahead caused Talen to pause and he signaled to Kyyis and Danae. The three companions flattened themselves against the wall as the light drew closer. Gesturing and muttering quietly Talen cast an area spell of concealment to keep out of sight. Talen could now make out the shapes of the approaching figures; three men and two of them heavily armed. The third figure was talking and the voice sounded oddly familiar.

Unable to make out the words of the speaker, Talen edged forward, one hand against the wall the other cupped around his ear.

"Listen to me you ugly brute of a man; you will do nothing, I mean nothing until I tell you to do so!" the first voice commanded.

"And pass up an opportunity like this? She's just a sitting duck! Her champion will not be arriving for at least another day! All that stands between us and the objective is some fat churchmen and lazy church soldiers."

"Don't be ridiculous, the city is crawling with Church knights. You can cross swords with them if you like, I'll be happy to send the pieces back to Anon."

One of the armed men huffed and gave a dismissive gesture.

"If we wait there will be more Church knights not less, and Anon doesn't tolerate failure."

"Very true, my vile friend, but by this time tomorrow, it will not matter how many Church knights are in Chyrellos."

Talen stilled…what would be happening tomorrow? A tap on his shoulder made the Pandion thief start. Danae leaned over his shoulder.

"The one in the middle looks familiar," she commented.

Talen looked closely and frowned. Was that _Kreiger_?

_._

"That drunken sot is still alive?" Sir Tynian asked, shocked. "I would have thought he was going the same way Worgun was…"

"Not only is he alive, he actually looks healthy," Talen answered disgustedly.

Sir Tynian, Archprelate Dolmant, Kyyis and Talen were seated in chambers set aside for the comfort of visiting dignitaries. Set with the colors of the holy city, black and red, illuminated sconces lit the room while intricate tapestries of idyllic gardens broke it's harsh décor.

After seeing Kreiger, Talen had decided to return to the Basilica to inform Queen Ehlana immediately. Danae had slipped off as soon as they arrived. Talen decided to keep her presence on the outing to himself, at least, for the time being.

"I wonder what he meant by the Church knights not mattering tomorrow." Ehlana mused.

"Something supernatural is set to happen."

Talen looked to the doorway and a smile spread across his face. "Sephrenia!"

"Hello, dear one," Sephrenia returned the smile indulgently.

The former Pandion tutor was as luminous as ever, her normally loose blue-black hair arranged in a jewel studded coronet around her head. Despite being in the center of the holy city and in front of the Archprelate, Talen crossed the room and bent to receive her blessing.

"What do you mean supernatural?" Sir Tynian asked.

Sephrenia looked up and her smile faded. "The Three are loose again. Sparhawk has already been attacked. It's only a matter of time before Chyrellos is attacked as well."

Several voices arose at once; Ehlana concerned for Sparhawk, Tynian asking when the attack happened, and Kyyis asking what she meant by the 'Three.' The high priestess held up her hands to halt the cacophony. "I see I need to explain further," she said. "Sparhawk is fine and on his way here, Ehlana. He was attacked by a monstrosity in the sky, but my goddess took care of it. However, there was also an army to be dealt with."

"Was this sky monster one of the Three?" Tynian asked Sephrenia.

"No," It was Vanion who answered as he entered behind his wife. "The monstrosity was one of Echelessa's pets."

"Pets?" Kyyis asked, "What had a pet like that?"

"An elder god." Sephrenia answered. "A very powerful and deranged elder god."

"But wait," Talen interrupted. "I thought the younger gods imprisoned all the elder gods."

Sephrenia lifted her fingers and rubbed her temples. Throwing a concerned look toward his wife Vanion picked up the narrative.

"That was true, Talen, but lately there's been an increasing amount of dissent in the counsel of the Thousand. Especially since the nominations for over-priest were announced. The division, consequently, has weakened the power that keeps the elder gods bound."

"Can't Aphrael take care of the arguing?" Talen asked. "She's usual able to get everyone to do what she wishes."

Sephrenia and Vanion exchanged a speaking look that was completely incomprehensible to Talen.

"Unfortunately it just isn't that simple. That's part of the reason we are here in Chyrellos, Talen." Sephrenia answered. "There's always been a great deal of enmity between Styric and Elenes and lately, due to Sparhawk's efforts, we no longer have a common enemy."

It was Vanion who picked up. "That has changed the dynamics of the counsel in a significant way…many sects have returned to embrace the old hatred of Elenes. We felt it was our duty to inform Sarathi of the developments."

Talen nodded, understanding dawning.

"Is there anything we can do?" Ehlana asked.

"It's best if you stay out of it, dear one," Sephrenia said giving Ehlana a pointed look, "Shendar has a very long arm and can make her presence felt even as far as here."

"Who's Shendar?" asked Tynian.

Vanion frowned. "She's frontrunner for over-priestess of the counsel of the Thousand and it looks like she'll win the election."

The former preceptor was interrupted by the entrance of Sir Bevier. The Cyrinic knight was carrying a dusty, cracking scroll and he crossed the room to Talen.

"Talen," he said excitedly, "I've found out the location of the first cipher!"

Talen jumped up. "Where?"

Bevier beamed his handsome smile. "We're standing over it!"

_._

The Great Basilica of Chyrellos: with its dome of marble inlaid with gold and layer after layer of swirling colonnaded halls it was a structure of beauty that stood as a testament of the strength and grace of the mother Church. It had been so for over a millennia, and would continue to be for ages to come.

Far beneath the lovely outside, however, was a den of shadows and secrets; the haunting corridors of darkness that made up the undercroft.

Talen held his torch aloft as he peered down the passage he was navigating. Behind him, Kyyis sneezed for the third time. Sniffling he rubbed his sleeve across his running nose.

"Please remind me again, Talen. Why am I here?"

Talen was now kneeling by an open shaft looking up the dark opening. "You volunteered remember? Back at the Chapterhouse? Despite strenuous protests on my part if I recall correctly."

"Huh," Kyyis said, his voice groggy and congested, "The way I recall it, there was supposed to be adventure...you know daring swordfights and lots of bad guys to beat up. Instead I'm stuck in yet another smelly, stinky, moldy cellar with only _you_ for company."

"Don't forget me," a lilting voice said from the passage Talen was peering up. A moment later Danae dropped down from above covered in grime and muck from the shaft. Despite being dressed as a page and completely covered in dirt, she still possessed an air of regal confidence. However, as she turned toward Talen he caught a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Who could forget your highness?" Kyyis answered dryly, "A princess who fancies herself a cat-burglar...I'm sure it must be all the craze with the nobility."

"Be nice," Talen murmured.

Danae looked at Kyyis and gave him a toothy grin. "Remember what we said about leaving our class prejudices at home, Sir Kyyis. Besides, if you wanted a fight you should have went with father, he seemed up to his ears with bad guys to beat up."

Kyyis gave Danae a dirty look and sneezed again.

Talen was still peering up the shaft. "Danae, did you see anything up there that would lead to the hall Bevier was talking about?"

Danae sighed. "Yes, but there is no way you and Kyyis are going to be able to get up there, you're too big."

Talen growled in frustration, this was the third dead end they had come to since they started the search earlier. Three hours had passed and they were still no closer to finding the hidden ciphers.

"Talen, why don't you just wave you hands and yell some of that gibberish so that you and Kyyis could fit through?"

Talen glared at the princess. "Would you please stop calling it gibberish, Danae? They are complicated spells that have taken years to master..."

"So you can't make yourself smaller?" Danae interrupted cocking an eyebrow.

"The Secrets I have learned specialize in changing perception," Talen explained exasperated, "Not reality."

Danae sighed again, feeling a headache coming on. "Can you at least try it? Your friends with Flute right? She's very forgiving; I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you didn't get the spell perfect."

Talen rolled his eyes. "Fine I'll try it, but if I accidentally turn myself into a toad, _you_ can explain why to Flute."

Looking nervous, Kyyis backed away. "How about you go ahead and shrink yourself and I'll stay here?"

"Coward." Danae said under her breath.

Talen shook his head to clear it. He thought for awhile and decided he really didn't want to risk turning himself into a frog, so he summoned Aphrael instead.

_"How is the search coming?" _her voice asked in his mind.

_"We hit a snag,"_ Talen started. _"Listen, I need a favor,"_

_"Do you?"_ said Aphrael, _"Well a favor can be granted...for a price."_

_"Later."_ Talen interrupted, he was in no mood for the convoluted games of the Styric goddess.

He could feel Aphrael's irritation at being thwarted.

_"Go ahead, Talen."_ she said ominously.

_"I need to become smaller temporarily to fit through a tight space. I really don't know a relevant spell to change your size."_

Aphrael was silent for a moment then spoke up, _"Try this,"_ she said, carefully sounding out a Styric phrase for Talen to copy.

_"Will this make me smaller?" _Talen asked.

_"In a manner,"_ Aphrael answered him. _"Just use a standard nullification incantation to reverse it."_ she finished, her consciousness disappearing.

Talen quickly incanted the new spell and opened his eyes.

Kyyis burst out laughing as Danae scrutinized him closely.

"Well...it did make you smaller." she observed.

Talen looked down at himself. His snug fitting tunic and hose now hung off his small frame. Incanting a spell in order to see his reflection he gasped when his face came into view.

He was ten years old again.


	13. Countdown to Cataclysm

Author's Note: I own nothing from the Elenium/Tamuli series, it belongs to David Eddings. This is the end of the first arc of my story, please let me know what you think so far…please…begging for reviews here. I appreciate those of you who have already reviewed. I will pay better attention to spelling and location names :( sorry.

**A Thief In Armor**

Chapter 13: Countdown to the Cataclysm

…5

The sound of clattering metal filled the air of the late-afternoon as Church Knights continued their steady march toward Chyrellos. They were hampered, however, by the numerous injured and the wet, sticky mud from the rain the previous night.

The Knights were only a couple of leagues from their destination and Sparhawk estimated that they would reach the holy city by the next day. The Elenian Champion wondered what he would find there. Part of him worried he would arrive too late and find the city besieged. He felt a twinge of worry for Ehlana, though he knew Danae was more than capable of taking care of her mother.

A tap on his shoulder caused Sparhawk to look up.

"Completely ignoring us as usual…" Rhamik said as he gave Sparhawk a half-smile. "…you'll have to forgive him, as we worms are so far below his notice," he continued in half irritation, half jest.

"Stop being an idiot, Rhamik. My lord, please forgive my brother's pitiable attempts at humor." Dirkeim interjected.

"Will you also be kissing a horse's ass while you're at it, Dirkeim-the-oh-so-proper?" Rhamik asked as he pulled his horse closer to his brother's mount.

"Boys," Sparhawk said sternly as he glared at the two. Both of Kurik's sons looked guiltily away.

"Now, Rhamik what did you want?" Sparhawk asked.

"I was simply suggesting that it might be a good idea to send the mounted Knights ahead. They could reach Chyrellos faster and the infantry could catch up later."

"Unfortunately," explained Sparhawk, "That would leave every man on foot exposed to whatever might appear out of nowhere. Don't worry, Rhamik. If the army we fought reaches Chyrellos before we do, the holy city has plenty of defenders."

The swift rider still looked worried. Meanwhile several Genidian Knights rode up, Ulath heading up the column. He came to a stop beside Sparhawk and slowed his horse down to keep up with him.

"How do you want to form up if the holy city _is_ under siege?" he asked without preamble.

Sparhawk looked ahead. He had been considering the possibility all morning. "Whether or not the city is under siege, I want to form up a semi circle of Knights in and around the city."

"Your infamous 'Ring of Steel'?" Ulath queried.

Sparhawk shrugged. "It worked before…"

Ulath grunted his assent. "I'll let Komier know."

"Has anyone received any word on the Chapterhouse?" asked Dirkeim.

Ulath shook his head. "Give it some time; it's been only a couple of days since the scouts were sent out."

Dirkeim looked down and gripped the reigns of his horse harder.

"Khalad knows what he's doing, Dirkeim," Sparhawk said. "We've sent messengers out to Darellon and Bevier, not to mention Kring's Peloi. The Chapterhouse will get reinforcements soon."

"I hope it's soon enough, my lord." Dirkeim said anxiously.

Sparhawk hoped so too.

…4

_Eighty seven. Eighty seven. Eighty seven. _The number swirled around in Khalad's head until he thought it would burst from the pressure. Eight seven: it wasn't the number of casualties since the Chapterhouse had been besieged, and it wasn't the number of Knight's now dead.

No, the number eight seven was the number of men that had been trapped outside at the mercy of a staggering force of mercenaries. Eighty seven was the number of Knights, of men, of _his_ men, of fathers, sons, and brothers whose fate was completely unknown.

The young preceptor stood along the ramparts overlooking the area surrounding the Chapterhouse. The northwest sector of the wall had, remarkably, been refortified by diligent Pandions, and the army that had mysteriously appeared out of nowhere had pulled back into the outlying fields.

There was no trace whatsoever of the Knights locked outside the Chapterhouse during the initial attack. Khalad had sent out his best spies, but none where able to penetrate the camp of the army or find out if any of the Knights lived or died.

_Eighty seven_. Khalad had other things to do. The counteroffensive measure would be mere moments away. The courtyard of the Chapterhouse was preternaturally silent. It was only an illusion however; a complex spell that only masked the flurry of last minute activity. Black clad knights mounted on snorting warhorses as novices sharpened endless lances. Adepts swung swords, axes, and sabers and those competent in the Secretes muttered incantations and drew complex symbols.

Trained killers, competent in all forms of slaughter; Khalad exhaled. He hoped it would be enough, because the Pandions were cornered and outnumber by four to one, last the scouts reported.

The Knights began to form up as the last several minutes drew to a close. Khalad would remain where he was, better to oversee the battle. The preceptor felt a calm descend over him and he tightened his fingers around his sword.

The trumpet sounded, and the drawbridge opened as the Pandions galloped out into combat. Eighty seven… he would find them…alive or dead.

…3

"Y'phira, are you alright?" Ehlana asked.

The young woman sitting across from the Elenian Queen looked as if she were in pain. Y'phira and Ehlana, along with Archprelate Dolmant, Vanion, and Sephrenia had reconvened in the preceptor's quarters that had been set aside for the ladies' use.

"I'm fine, your Majesty, my head just hurts a bit," Y'phira said as she pressed her fingers against her temple and grimaced.

Sephrenia frowned and shared a look with Vanion. "Something is indeed coming. The only thing I can be sure of is that the Three are behind it."

"Isn't there anything we can do at all Sephrenia? I feel so helpless sitting here doing nothing!" Ehlana complained vehemently.

"No Ehlana," it was the Archprelate who answered. "This is of supernatural origin. You must leave it to those who are equipped to handle it."

Just then, Berit and Olet entered the chamber, Bevier and Tynian following.

"We've put all the Pandions on alert. Most of the Knights will stay up for the rest of the night. Whatever is going to happen, we'll be prepared for it." Berit said.

"I've sent out messengers to the Cyrinic chapterhouse as well," Bevier added. "So reinforcements will be on their way if anything gets out of hand."

"We received word from some of our scouts," Tynian inserted. "Sparhawk and the rest of the Pandions are close to Chyrellos. They should be here in a few hours."

"Very good," Dolmant said. "Now we just have to wait and see what our enemy's next move will be."

A low moan caused everyone to turn toward the direction of the sound. Y'phira was holding her head in both hands, and though her eyes were tightly shut, tears still issued from beneath them.

Bevier sprinted across the room and wrapped his arm around the young tutor. "Y'phira, my lady? What's the matter?" He asked; his voice marked with concern.

"Leave her, Bevier." Sephrenia said softly as she looked at her protégé intently. "She's more in tune with what's happening now than the rest of us are…she's always been sensitive like that."

Bevier looked up, surprised, but did not take his arm from around the shaking young woman's shoulders. After a moment her body stopped trembling and she was abnormally still. Slowly, Y'phira opened her eyes, but instead of the irises being their usual grey color, they were white and opaque. Her voice broke the silence, sounding oddly dusty and arcane.

"Behold the time draws nigh unto the tearing asunder of the worlds and those who dwell therein. Truly there abides none who will escape, no, not one. Restoration will come only when the errant echoes of the Bhelliom's threads are once more returned to the place from whence they came."

Finishing her impromptu prophecy, the young tutor fainted.

…2

Talen continued his long climb down the shaft corridor. Dirt and dust dripped onto his face as the smell of decay and mildew filled his nostrils. Despite his initial reaction to being changed back to a child, the altered thief found moving along the treacherous path infinitely easier.

The handholds were uncertain, but his agile movements kept him from falling. Below him, Danae was moving with equal dexterity. Talen made a mental note to himself to have a _long_ talk with Sparhawk about his daughter's many talents.

"Here Talen," the nimble princess called up. "I think this leads to the tombs."

Bevier's earlier research had revealed that Listrages had taken the secrets of the first cipher to his grave.

Literally.

The early Archprelate had a secret text buried with him; Bevier was sure it was one taken from the now extinct H'va-ken tribe. It was Talen's task to retrieve it from where the Archprelate was entombed.

Talen followed the sound of Danae's voice to an opening in the wall several feet down. He climbed down until his feet could swing into the hole. With a smooth, fluid motion the thief detached himself from the corridor wall and landed inside the cavity.

"I think it's big enough here for you to change back, Talen." Danae noted.

She was right. The initial aperture opened into a larger hallway. Talen took a deep breath and incanted the standard nullification spell, forming his fingers into the symbols needed.

He felt an odd stretching, like being full after a meal. He gestured a quick spell for additional light. Looking down, he observed that he was his normal size and age.

The Pandion thief breathed an audible sigh of relief, which earned a quizzical look from Danae.

"What's wrong, Talen? Didn't think you would remember the spell?" she asked; half a grin evident on her face.

"Don't be ridiculous, Danae," Talen scoffed, as he dusted off his arms, "My memory is flawless it's just that…" Talen trailed off.

"It's just what?" Danae turned around and queried.

Talen ran a distracted hand through his hair as he drew alongside her. "Well Aphrael can be a bit whimsical…"

"So I've heard." Danae murmured.

"Well, it would be _just_ like her to leave me as a child…you know, she prefers that form herself." Talen noted absently, looking down at his companion.

"Leave you as a child?" Danae said softly, tilting her head to one side as she considered. For some reason, Talen felt deeply concerned by to conniving glint in her eye.

"Princess…" Talen said, a desperate edge in his voice, "You won't mention any of that to Flute will you?"

Danae looked up, her expression taking on an innocent glow. "Of course not, Talen." She said in a tone that clearly indicated otherwise. "I happen to like you all grown up." She gave him another one of her breathtakingly lovely smiles, and for a moment Talen forgot he was standing in a dark, moldy crypt. Instead he was sitting on his porch in Demos watching the emerald leaves of Kurik's oak stream across the sky in the squalls of late summer.

The distracted thief shook his head to clear it. How very odd; it wasn't like him to daydream. "Well let's see if we can find the old 'prelate's bones." He said to Danae and set off.

They followed the antiquated hallways, their footfalls muted by the centuries of dust underfoot. The dimly lit quarters progressed ahead in a path that twisted and turned in convoluted stretches, pieces of the hallway crumbling away with the decay of time.

Talen looked around as they moved forward. It was difficult to make out anything distinct because of the extreme age of the hallway, but Talen detected some figures along the unbroken parts of the wall. Stopping to investigate further, the thief brushed his fingers across the markings to remove some of the dust.

"Danae," he called. "There are some markings over here." He said indicating the engravings. The princess stood on her tiptoes, balancing herself on Talen's arm as she peered over his shoulder and studied the uncovered etchings.

"Hmm…they look like some type of letters, but nothing I'm familiar with." she said.

Talen dug around in his pockets and removed a piece of paper Bevier had given to him. Listranges' name was reprinted carefully in the old form of Elenic by the Cyrinic scholar. Talen held the paper up for Danae to read.

"This is what should be on the entrance to his sepulture," he explained. Danae nodded as she compared the writing to the engravings.

"This definitely is not it, though some of the letters are the same. We are probably getting close…Talen what are you doing?"

Talen had flipped open his sketch book and had written Listranges' name and lined up the letters engraved on wall directly beneath them. "There's probably a system they have set up here, princess. After the first few I'll probably be able to figure out exactly where our old 'prelate is." He explained.

"What makes you think there's a _system_ for disposing of old dead men, especially so far back in ancient times?" Danae asked, amused.

"Trust me, Danae. The church thrives off of systems and rules. If it wasn't done when Listranges died, then some meticulous clergyman would have fixed it later."

"If you say so, Talen." Danae said with a little huff.

Talen set to work. Several sites later he confirmed his hunch that the Archprelates buried there were in chronological order. Moving quickly down the hall he passed several doors and stopped to compare the letters again. He still had a long way to go.

After several back and forth trips down the hall, Talen and Danae finally found engravings that matched up with the ones Bevier had written.

"Looks like this is it…" Talen said as he ran his fingers along Listrange's burial entrance. Not feeling any fissures in the walls, he wondered how they would get in.

"Did sir Bevier say anything about actually getting in to Listrange's tomb?" Danae asked, folding her arms and tapping one foot impatiently.

"No…but it shouldn't be a major problem," Talen said, unperturbed. He final found what he was looking for and with a shove from his shoulder the wall cracked open. Slipping his fingers into the opening Talen forced the gap wider until it was able to accommodate his size.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Danae asked an eyebrow quirked.

"Thief school, princess." He said looking back and gave the princess a mockingly grave expression. "Grave robbing is a standard lesson."

"I see," she said wryly, "…any chance that we can go on? Or do you have more brilliant lines to deliver?"

"Be nice, princess," Talen said as he slipped through "Stay here for a moment while I check things out"

Danae sighed in consternation behind Talen as he inched his way through the opening into the burial site. The light from his spell spilled into a large chamber that was empty, bereft of any indication that someone had been entombed there.

"That's odd." Talen said. "Danae, come see this."

The dark haired princess joined Talen in the sepulcher. She looked around and her eyebrows drew together in puzzlement. "But there's nothing in here, Talen."

She walked ahead of him and abruptly vanished. Her loud shriek sent the Pandion running after her and floor disappeared under him. Tumbling down he landed on something soft.

"Ow! Talen that's my arm!" Danae yelled at the disoriented thief. Talen attempted to disentangle himself from the petite princess but ended up getting further knotted up.

Danae rapidly elbowed him away and got to her feet, puffing loudly. "A little light would probably help, Talen." She said in a honeyed voice that made Talen wince.

Talen sat up and incanted a bright area-spell. He was blinded by the sudden presence of light but his eyes slowly adjusted. He realized why the room seemed empty. It was because it wasn't really a room at all.

It was a flight of stairs.

Set into the middle of the room neither Talen nor Danae had seen it until they sprawled down. With the guidance of the light the companions carefully climbed down in a spiraling descent.

Like the rest of the tombs, the stairs were decayed with age and crumbling. Going down was perilous and Talen reached for the young princess' hand as they continued to transverse the treacherous stairs. Danae raised an eyebrow but didn't argue.

Talen became more and more concerned as they continued to go down further and further. How far down was the former Archprelate? Why was he buried so far below the other tombs? Was it possible he had other secrets buried with him besides the text he stole from the H'va-ken tribe?

Finally, the staircase ended. Talen found himself in a small chamber. There were faintly glowing silver symbols on the walls around him. Talen frowned darkly and muttered a curse.

"What's wrong Talen?" Danae asked from behind him.

"It's these symbols," he said as he touched the dimly shining marks on the wall. "They're Styric."

"Styric?" asked Danae, "Why would an Archprelate have Styric symbols in his tomb?"

"I don't know," Talen said, "Either way, some of them are instructions for getting in to the tomb." He said touching a set of letters on the far wall.

Taking a deep breath he muttered the indicated spell and heard a rumbling below him. Hastily he stepped away as a sarcophagus rose from below him. The cover of the stone coffin was carved in a likeness of a man in repose. The definition of his features had worn away, but still retained vestigial elements of his expression; arrogance and pride. So this was the pompous idiot who had destroyed the entire H'va-ken tribe. Talen curled his lip in sudden disgust and pressed his palms against the sculpted lid. Giving a heave the lid slid about half an inch.

Nearly half an hour later, sweating and exhausted, Talen finally pushed the lid off Listrange's coffin. The Pandion thief peered inside, Danae leaning against his side to look also.

The corpse was old, little more than papery skin and bones, but laid against his chest was an incredibly well preserved book.

"Are you going to take it or what?" Danae asked. Talen gave her an anxious look. The princess rolled her eyes and sighed. "Just take it, Talen, I don't think Listranges cares at this point."

Talen reached down and grabbed the book. Suddenly, the ground began to shake.

…1

The holy city loomed ahead. It had been exhausting for the Pandions to travel so far into the night, but a sense of urgency had overcome Sparhawk, a dark foreboding that had him continue on despite the weariness of his men.

However, no one complained, even the bleary eyed Komier. It was if they all understood the necessity of reaching the crux of contention. There was a fraught heaviness in the air, an expectation of things to come.

The battle weary prince of Elenia looked up. All seemed as it should be in Chyrellos; it looked like he arrived in time.

Then the world exploded.

The sky turned to what could only be described as an inferno, bright amber and magenta flames alighting on the previously serene sky. Flashes of lightning streaked across the blazes adding violet tinged brightness to the spectacle. Lit with consuming fire, it was beautiful sight of perfect horror.

Men fell from their horses as they stared, gap mouthed at the marvel around them. The sky, it wasn't on fire, it _was_ fire a rippling conflagration of light and wrath, radiance and passion.

…Then a sound, an awful sound: the sound of screaming, torture and wrenching; as if the very earth were crying as it was torn asunder.

The ground wasn't mere terrain anymore. It groaned and moved and shook, like a living man tormented and in pain.

The horses were terrified, running in panicked circles, the whites of their eyes showing as they whined and grunted. Still nothing could drown out the sound of the earth itself as it split and tore, as the strands of reality ripped apart uncovering what dwelled beneath.

Sparhawk observed this with a sense of unreality until he was abruptly thrown from his horse. Fortunately for the Pandion, Faran didn't trample him but instead rode off in the opposite direction.

He tried to shake his head, he closed his eyes but the vision didn't leave, nor would the cavernous screaming in his ears cease. He heard his name, not the one he was born with, but the name of the man with no destiny.

Anakha.


	14. Intermission

Author's Note: Yes, I know it has been a long, long time. I'm sorry. I lost a whole chapter and it just completely knocked me down.

I was saddened by the death of one of my favorite authors, David Eddings, as I'm sure many others are. It's one of the reasons I keep at this because he and his wife were incredible authors. Their characters are so vivid they keep running around in my imagination even when the books done.

This is just a break between arcs; it's not an actual chapter. The actual chapter will follow this very soon, I'm almost done.

Thank you for all the reviews in my absence. They kept me from giving up.

_-Intermission-_

The counsel chamber was full. Voices rose in an antiphonal dissonance of fear and chaos. Though the hall was well lit, a suppressing darkness seemed to blanket everything. Far from imagined, the pervading night was a stark and terrifying reality.

A clamorous banging, however, caused the many voices to still. Most members of the counsel were familiar with the particular sound and none cared to counter it. Sir Kalten was well known to strike first and ask questions later.

"This emergency meeting of the Queen's privy counsel is now coming to order! Anyone who does not comply with set protocol will be escorted out, on the end of my sword if needs be." Kalten said threateningly to the assemblage.

Cowed, at least for the time being, the counsel chamber was quiet. Kalten gave an imperceptible sigh of relief. "Baron Platime has the floor!" the Church Knight announced, and stepped aside for the head of Elenian intelligence.

"Most of you know some of what has happened so far, I will fill you in on everything we have been able to glean."

"Shortly after the Queen's retinue left the Chapterhouse at Demos, they were surrounded by an army of Deirans and free-lance mercenaries. Immediately following that, an additional army appeared and laid siege to the Pandion Chapterhouse in Demos. "

A frightened buzz arose in the room. Kalten rapped the hilt of his sword against the table again and the chamber grew silent, allowing Platime to continue.

"Deira's involvement surely has something to do with the turmoil over there right now. My men have confirmed King Obler and the crown prince have been assassinated. You will hear them speak later." Platime continued, gesturing at the two ragged looking men behind him.

"Right now we have some of our scouts who have returned from where the battles took place." Platime stepped aside and two men in Pandion formal armor stepped forward. Kalten stood again and addressed the first scout.

"Tell us what happened as you headed to Chyrellos. What is the fate of the Queen and the royal family?" Kalten asked.

The young, weary man bowed to the counsel. "I was with the scout group that caught the initial sight of the enemy. They were a small group in front of us, and according to my captain, they were on their way to the holy city. When I arrived back to tell Prince Sparhawk, the Genidian's had also spotted a larger group behind us."

"That day, we battled the first group with a relatively small loss of our own men. Prince Sparhawk sent Queen Ehlana and Princess Danae ahead to Chyrellos where they would be safer. That is the last I've heard. I was sent out before they fought the group trailing behind us."

Kalten nodded. "So the last you heard the entire royal family was safe."

"Yes, sir." The scout answered. Kalten nodded and the scout withdrew and the next scout came to the front of the chamber.

"Tell us about the Chapterhouse siege." Kalten ordered quietly.

This particular scout was even younger than the one preceding him. He appeared shaken and feverish even though the siege had begun almost a week before. He shook his head. "They came from nowhere my lord, not even a league from the Chapterhouse. None of us saw them until they were right upon us."

Kalten interrupted. "Are you sure it wasn't negligence of the part of the watch? Perhaps someone was sleeping on duty?"

The young scout shook his head even harder. "No sir, there are nearly a score of us that keep watch. In addition to the veterans, they discipline novitiates with watch duty as well. Every one of us would have had to been blind and mute to miss this force…it is massive."

Kalten sighed and motioned for the scout to continue.

"Preceptor Khalad sent me and Rhamik out before the actual fighting began. I was sent here and Rhamik was sent to find Prince Sparhawk and inform him of the news."

"Have we learned anything since then?" Kalten asked, turning to Platime.

"The last we heard was from two days ago, before the ah…event. At that point the Chapterhouse was holding but barely."

"We'll have to hope for the best then," Kalten said. "It's dangerous to leave the city right now."

An expectant hush fell over the room as the question on everyone's mind hung in the air, unanswered. It was finally Lenda's nephew Ensen, who broke the silence.

"Do either of ye know…?" He trailed off looking down.

Kalten cleared his throat and tried to keep his voice steady. "No, Ensen, none of us has been able to figure out why. All we can do now is warn people not to go anywhere near it. No one who has gone in has returned."

A tense silence followed the pronouncement until Platime stood and motioned for the ragged looking men to come forward. "Tell us the situation in Deira."

One of the men, dressed in a non-descript dark brown tunic came forward. "Platime already told you that king Obler and the crown prince were killed. It looks like two factions are warring for the throne. One is behind Lefiet who has enlisted the help of a great number of mercenaries. He's throwing around money like its water, but he doesn't have much support from his countrymen."

"The other faction," the spy continued, "…stands behind Guyet. He has more court connections but less money."

Platime interjected. "Were you able to tell which one was supplying the troops to fight in Elenia?"

"Not for certain, but I'm leaning toward Guyet, the rumor among the servants quarters is that he was the one who orchestrated the king's assassination. He is also reputed to have imperial appetites."

An angry murmur shot through the ranks of the privy counsel. Platime grunted. "To bad our forces are spread so thin. I would like to teach that cur a lesson or two about his imperial ambitions."

A grim smile lit on Kalten's face. "I'm afraid Darellon beat us to it. Apparently the preceptor took great offence from the assassination of his king. He plans to unleash the Alcione Knights on the perpetrator."

Several members of the counsel nodded their approval. Platime and Kalten shared a look. "We have decisions to make, gentlemen." Platime said. "We have to look to the defense and sustenance of what is left of our city. We'll adjourn for now and reconvene at midday."

The counsel filed out, eyes averted from the west windows and the view of what used to be the other side of Cimmura. Kalten did not avert his eyes; instead he forced himself to look directly into a painfully personal hell that was now the west side of Cimmura.

Alean had been in the castle. Their daughter Kida had been with her pregnant mother when it happened. They both were safe.

But his son…

Kalten remembered his son's face two days ago, alight with laughter, begging him to let him go horse riding. Finally the grizzled Pandion had relented and allowed his son to go with the stable master and the stable master's son on a short ride in the western country side.

He had not seen Eluen since.

Kalten walked out into the castle courtyard and faced the west. Several miles away the city abruptly stopped and was replaced by a different world. A world that seemed to be a landscape of hell, with its black featureless ground and flame colored sky. The only sound was the distant call of thunder. People steered clear of it, the homes and buildings lying adjacent long since abandoned.

The only thing stopping Kalten from marching directly in to reclaim his son was his concern for his wife and daughter. For them he made sure the counsel met and would do what needed to be done to protect the rest of the city. After that…

He was going to hell.


	15. Truth

Author's Note: I do not own anything for the Eddings books. This chapter has been a long time coming. There were a few surprises that…even surprised me…anyway please read and review…

Please, please, please, _please_…begging, pleading, groveling I'm desperate. Please review.

* * *

A Thief In Armor (Arc 2)

* * *

Chapter 14: Truth

_Anakha._

_The man of no destiny, no constraints of fate._

_The man who slew dark gods and saved nations._

_The man of great strength and implacable resolve._

_The man no force in the world had yet prevailed over._

…The man who now lay prostrate on blackened, barren earth feeling every inch of his age…

Sparhawk gingerly sat up, his armor creaking along with his bones in protest. Painfully forcing his body into a half-sitting position, he haphazard a glance at the sky.

It remained an unbroken inferno of lava-bright fames extending into the horizon as far as the eye could see.

"I'm getting too old for this." Sparhawk said grumpily to no one in particular.

The Elenian Champion levered himself to his feet and looked around. He was utterly alone, surrounded by the bleak landscape of charred ground and blazing sky. There were no landmarks, neither man-made nor natural. The rocky ground was uniformly stark with a complete lack of vegetation or growth of any kind.

Resigned, Sparhawk set off in what he hoped was a straight line stumbling a bit as his lethargy dissipated. The Pandion scanned his surroundings and chose a direction at random.

There was no way to tell how long he walked. The set ordinances of time, space, and distance seem to be harrowingly subjective in this desolate landscape. The weary Knight continued to place one foot in front of the other in obstinate determination to find something; _anything_ familiar.

"Doth thou yet tire of thy directionless ambling?"

Startled, Sparhawk turned toward a voice coming from his right. The deep, calm, baritone- voice came from a man that was walking unhurriedly toward Sparhawk. Halting, the Prince Consort waited suspiciously as his hand closed lightly on the hilt of his sword.

The man's features came into focus as he approached. He wore a long black cloak with strange inscriptions embroidered into the trim with silvery tread. Despite the lack of wind, the stranger's long cloak billowed around him as if it held its own awareness.

As peculiar as the cloak was, the stranger's most striking feature had to be his extraordinary eyes. Such a pale grey they appeared nearly colorless, they were made all the more arresting by the dark brows and lashes that framed them.

The pale-eyed man's completely white hair indicated age but his face was unlined and his gait was that of a young man. His expression was composed and firm as he approached Sparhawk.

In turn Sparhawk clung tighter to the hilt of his sword. The stranger lifted an eyebrow, a faint spark of amusement glinting a moment in his eyes before they returned to the serious, stern expression.

"I pray thee, be at ease. I harbor no malice toward thee, Anakha." The man said as he drew to within arms length.

Sparhawk gave the man a curt nod. "You seem to know my name, friend. Would you care to share yours?"

The man waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "My name shall be revealed unto thee in due time, Anakha."

His answer did not sit well with Sparhawk. The Pandion's instinct told him the stranger was hiding something, but he also sensed no immediate threat. Reluctantly, he allowed his hand to slide from the hilt of his sword.

"Well neighbor," Sparhawk said coolly, "I find myself at an impasse. Were you implying that you might know something about this god-forsaken land?"

The pale eyed man snorted. "This desolate landscape in which thou findest thyself is a direct consequence of thy actions, Anakha."

"You know neighbor, you seem to have a knack for being baffling as well as offensive." Sparhawk said curtly.

"It is truth thou hast issue with. It is the truth I speaketh unto thee; no more, no less." The stranger responded with a negligent shrug of the shoulders. Then he turned and began to walk away. "Come then, Anakha. Come unless thy desire is to abide in this fiery land."

Sparhawk had come to the simple conclusion that he did not particularly like his companion. However, his choices at that point were severely limited. With a resigned sigh he set out to follow the pale-eyed guide.

It was more of the same as they traveled, and Sparhawk could make no sense of where they were headed. The Elenian Champion longed to ask his guide about where exactly they were going, but was in no mood for any more enigmatic answers.

At first Sparhawk didn't realize his companion had paused and nearly walked into the stranger's back. Surprised he had stopped, Sparhawk opened his mouth to ask why. However the pale eyed man held up a hand for silence.

"Behold she cometh." Sparhawk's guide said, raising a hand and pointing at the sky.

Sparhawk looked up to where his companion indicated. Coming toward them was a large ebony-hued creature. A shock of familiarity raced through the Pandion. He had seen this thing, this Onyx, before. Flute had set her animals to battle it only a few nights before.

This time was different. The creature that had attacked Sparhawk's men in the early hours of the morning seemed like a mere shadow of what was coming toward him now.

Sparhawk could see every outline of the Onyx's glittering scales; a sheen of purple and blue shining on the obsidian surfaces.

The face on the end of the snake-like head now had distinct eyes of bleeding red lava. It flew despite only having the stumps of wings. The spot where the Onyx had its throat slit was now wrapped in a sheet of the deepest scarlet the Pandion had ever seen.

With a start, he realized the scarlet sheet was attached to a woman, a woman who was also painfully familiar to him. He limbs were long, languid and tanned. Her lips were full and sensual and her hair a long and glossy black curling against the evocative curves of her body. She rode the Onyx reclined against one of the massive stumps of its severed wings.

"I will deal with this vermin; thou hast not yet come into thy full power." Sparhawk's pale eyed companion broke the Elenian's contemplation of the familiar looking woman.

"My full power?" Sparhawk asked.

His strange guide ignored him. Instead the white-haired man raised his right hand. The symbols embroidered into his cloak seemed to glow. Abruptly, lightning appeared where his hand was; a swirling convergence of incandescent violet light. The light began to solidify into what Sparhawk realized was a massive longsword. It was inscribed with the same strange symbols that were on the black cloak.

The Onyx continued to approach inexorably forward. It closed the distance on the two companions and opened his mouth. A fume of noxious looking gas came out obscuring everything in front of Sparhawk. He waved his hands in front of his face, but the fumes were so dense as to be palpable and they refused to lift.

At that moment there was a bright gleaming and the air immediately cleared. A few feet away Sparhawk's guide dueled back and forth with the large Onyx, his sword tearing away scales as the creature thrashed and continued to pour out its obscuring fumes.

The woman seemed strangely disconnected from the fight and didn't change position even as the Onyx whipped about. Finally, the pale eye man thrust his sword into one of the creature's blazing lava eyes and it shrieked in fury and pain. It disengaged, rising high into the fiery sky.

The woman, however, didn't remain still. As the creature lifted itself higher in the air, the woman stood and dismounted. The grace of her movement was not lost on Sparhawk even as she performed the impossible descent.

She landed lightly on her feet, clad in gold sandals that crisscrossed her calves and tied below her knees. She sauntered slowly toward Sparhawk and his companion while her scarlet gown extended behind her into the sky.

The pale-eyed man turned to Sparhawk. "Beware Echelessa," he cautioned. "She is, above all, devious and seductive; take heed or thou wilt, all unaware, become ensnared in her web of deceit."

Echelessa…Sparhawk narrowed his eyes. He knew this woman--but not by that name.

The white-haired man sheathed his sword, the blade disintegrating in a shower of sparks. His eyes, however, remained wary. "Begone thou accursed creature. Thy presence will not be tolerated!"

The woman gazed at Sparhawk's companion with cold contempt. "Silence, traitor. It is not unto thee I have come." She said; her voice a throaty, sultry song. Breezing past him she halted in front of Sparhawk and smiled. "It has been long since we have seen each other. Yes, Mahkra?"

"Hello Lillias…" Sparhawk said evenly. "It seems you've risen in the world."

"Forgive my deception, dearest Mahkra, but did you not deceive me as well? Always when you were with me it was _her _you carried in your heart."

"Enough!" The pale-eyed man interjected. "I will no longer abide thy lies. Begone as I command or forfeit the life of thy mighty beast."

The woman called Echelessa hissed. "I will not forget this, traitor!" Turning toward Sparhawk she reached out and caressed his face. "We will meet again, beloved." She whispered.

Backing away, she leapt into the air and was drawn back to her Onyx by the strings of an unseen force.

Sparhawk turned back to his guide. "Neighbor, I think that you need to explain some things."

* * *

Part II

* * *

The ground continued to shake as Talen stumbled around looking for purchase. "Danae!" he called, scanning the chamber for his petite companion. The young princess crossed the room, her steps nimble even on the shifting ground.

"I believe it's time to leave, your highness." Talen said. Danae's response was cut off by a massive booming, as a section of the steps broke apart and came crashing down. The Pandion grabbed the princess as the rock stairwell swayed towards where the two were standing. Together they backed away closer toward where Listranges lay entombed.

"Looks like were not leaving the way we came" Danae observed, unruffled as she dusted herself off with her free hand. Her other hand was clenched tightly in her shaken companion's, though Talen didn't seem to notice what he was doing.

The major shaking had subsided, but the earth continued to rumble as the after-shocks rocked the room. Talen looked up and groaned. Danae was right; they would not be leaving the same way they came in. The steps leading down the Archprelate's final resting place had broken away in great chunks far too large to span by any normal means.

Desperately, Talen looked around again. The chamber was very old and underground, its walls covered with the strange pulsating silver glyphs. The symbols on the wall had to mean _something._ Perhaps there was another way out.

Talen pulled his royal accomplice toward the nearest set of silver symbols, tracing them with his fingers. The princess watched silently, but with a slightly amused expression on her face.

Talen scowled. "I don't suppose you could think of a better way out?" he growled.

Danae's eyes grew slightly rounder and her amused expression became even more so. "By all means, noble Knight, I put my royal personage and safety unquestionably in your capable hands!" she said, smiling demurely.

The Pandion thief could think of several things he wanted to do with Danae's royal personage at that moment. He was smart enough not to voice them. Especially since it seemed that the princess was actually _enjoying_ their stint in this over-glorified grave.

He, on the other hand, wished to leave as soon as possible. They had what they came for; the H'va-ken tribe's literary achievements were now tucked under Talen's arm. The thief however, had a jittery feeling in his stomach. Somehow he could feel that something was very, very wrong. Even though Talen knew where he was, more or less, he couldn't seem to shake the feeling of somehow being displaced.

Talen shook his head, he was thinking too much. He was merely under the Great Basilica in Chyrellos, a city he knew as well as the back of his hand. How many years ago had he first started his pick-pocketing career in those dark alleyways, not to mention the more official capacities in which he now served? So why did he feel so edgy?

"Do any of these look familiar to you?" Danae's abrupt question was a welcome distraction from Talen's unease. The symbols she was referring to were in Styric, but the rending was in an archaic style, much older than what Talen was used to using.

The Pandion forced himself to recall the old Styric history lessons, the only time he heard the archaic phrases used. He focused on the dust of Listranges' burial chamber. Talen's classroom had dust too. In his head he went back to his quiet classroom tracing swirls in the dust on the window next to his desk as the Styric tutor lectured the novitiates.

Gradually the words clarified, their elegant cadences returning to the forefront of Talen's memory. The recollections helped. Talen recognized some of the words and was able to puzzle out the gist of the message. If he was deciphering it correctly, it was a spell to 'wake the dust'.

It seemed ominous, but it was a promising lead nonetheless. "Find anything useful yet?" Danae asked. Talen frowned. "There's a spell," he said indicating the symbols. "I'm going to try it."

Danae looked at where he was pointing and her expression turned wary. "I don't think that would be a good idea…" she said worriedly. Talen threw a quick glance at her, his own brows drawn together. "Don't worry princess, the spell isn't complicated…let's see if it does anything." He said and began incanting the spell.

Danae interrupted him. "I really do not...Talen you had better stop."

Talen rolled his eyes. "Your highness," Talen said with exaggerated patience, "Please let me handle this. Last time I checked _I _was a Master of the Secretes, while you can't even _read _Styric. Besides," he said, giving her his best smirk, "…where's your sense of adventure, princess? Would you rather stay here and keep Listranges' corpse company?"

Danae was furious. Dropping his hand, (which Talen belatedly realized had been wrapped around hers the entire time) she lifted one imperious finger and prepared to tell him exactly what he would not do.

Before she could draw breath, Talen hastily finished reciting the entire spell.

Nothing happened.

"Well that didn't work." Talen said as he moved to the next set of shining glyphs. Talen opened his mouth to incant the next set of spell when he was suddenly interrupted by a dry, rasping whisper. Talen and Danae looked at each other and both turned around slowly.

"Deeeee…ssseeeee….craaaaa……"

To Talen's total astonishment Listranges, the old dead Archprelate, was sitting up within his sepulture attempting to communicate. His mummified corpse was little more than bones thinly covered with cracking, leathery skin.

"Deeessseeeeeecraaaaaaatorssss!" the thing wheezed, its rasping voice similar to sand rubbing slowly against metal.

As if Talen's day was not going badly enough, the long-dead corpse of Listranges vaulted toward the Pandion as if he were a living breathing acrobat. Shoving the H'va-ken tribe book at Danae, Talen unsheathed his sword just in time to counter Listranges' first strike.

"Desecrators!" Listranges said in his rasping, dusty voice. "Thieves of the most holy! You will pay for this blasphemy!"

Talen parried another wild strike. "Where did this old windbag get a sword?" he yelled.

"How should I know?" Danae demanded as she backed away from the struggle going on in front of her. Talen gave Listranges a swipe of his own, but the corpse seemed unfazed, it didn't even bleed. Talen ground his teeth in frustration. How were you supposed to kill something that was already dead?

"Vile heretic! Your bones will rot as your soul burns in damnation for all eternity!" Listranges cried.

Talen felt an all too familiar fury begin to build in him again. "That was a bit over the top, you rotting, despicable, piss-poor excuse for a holy man."

The Pandion Knight tossed aside his sword and quickly formed a spell. The incantation fell perfectly from his lips as his rage cleared away every distraction. Listranges literally flew apart as Talen's flawlessly manufactured whirlwind ripped the corpse to pieces.

"Nicely done." Danae commented, an odd note of sincerity her voice. Her face expressed cool approval.

Suddenly the air was filled with the sound of moaning voices and shuffling feet. Talen and Danae looked up. Hundreds of mummified corpses were beginning to descend the steps from above. "Don't worry…" Talen said nervously. "They won't be able to get past the gaps."

However, to Talen's horror, the corpses didn't even try; instead they simply fell to the ground far beneath the stairs. Many of the corpses were mangled by the fall, but several came down unscathed. Talen summoned the whirlwind again, but there were many corpses to deal with and more coming.

As a corpse attacked Talen from the side the Pandion's concentration slipped and the whirlwind died. The young Knight was soon overwhelmed. Though he had been able to get his sword, the weapon was largely ineffective against the undead creatures.

"Talen! Over here quickly!" Danae called from across the chamber.

He kicked the nearest undead and ran over to where the princess was gesturing frantically. After confirming that Talen was coming, Danae turned back to the glyph's she was staring at and began chanting a complicated Styric phrase.

Thunderstruck, Talen halted in the middle of his flight and dropped his sword.

"YOU KNOW THE SECRETS?!" Talen screamed.

"I never said I did not, if you recall, Talen." Danae responded calmly.

"What the hell! Who…"

Danae interrupted, "Now is not the time Talen! I will explain later, I promise."

Talen had no time to finish his question. The corpses continued to multiply and they had caught up with the Pandion. He picked up his discarded sword and batted away the nearest few. Swiftly, he ran to where Danae standing.

To Talen's amazement the wall in front of Danae was sliding aside, revealing another set of steps. _Could Sparhawk have taught his daughter the Secrets? Maybe, but why wouldn't he have told me?_ Danae slipped through and disappeared up the flight. Talen followed her, unfortunately, so did the massive horde of undead corpses.

"It there a way to close this wall?" Talen called up.

"Absolutely not!" Danae yelled down. Talen muttered a few choice oaths as he redoubled his efforts to race up the stairs. Fortunately, it was straight upward, but Talen could hear the rasping undead close behind.

_Sephrenia? No she has barley been in Elenia…a few visits here and there, nothing long enough to teach such advanced spells to her…_

Talen continued to climb on and on, pausing every so often to send a nasty offensive spell barreling down behind him. "How long do these stairs go?" Talen asked, breathless from running, fighting and spell-casting. He could not even see his companion; she was too far ahead. Her voice floated down. "Just keep climbing! The undead can only go so high!"

It seemed Talen was not far enough up. He stopped suddenly as a stitch in his side flared in pain. His mind was reeling. _How does she know about the undead? Who could have taught her all this?_

The thought was interrupted as an undead dressed in battle gear lunged at Talen. The agile thief stepped aside and kicked the corpse back down. _I should ask Aphrael-- she would know._ Talen continued to run up hoping that eventually the undead would give up their pursuit.

_Aphrael…It was probably Aphrael herself who taught Danae. She and Flute have met before. _

Suddenly, Talen stopped on the stairs as an overheard conversation floated back to his memory. Khalad and Berit had been arguing about Danae.

For some reason Berit was comparing her to Flute; pointing out their similar habits, mannerisms, even looks. Khalad, having the impatience of a new preceptor with more important matters to be concerned, had promptly assigned Berit a new mission and kicked him out of the Chapterhouse. Talen had no idea why they were arguing about the goddess and the princess being similar but now…

Now he _knew_.

"Oh hell." Talen said in a small voice. He looked up the stairs and back down. For a long moment he considered heading back down and trying his luck with the undead minions. No, first he wanted answers.

The young princess was right, as the rasping voices behind had grown fainter. Talen continued climbing as he clutched a stitch in his side. The Pandion thief glanced around. Imperceptibly the stairwell had begun to grow less dark, and became even brighter further up the stairs.

Talen finally caught up to his companion at the top of the stairwell.

Danae's head was tilted back as her fingers wove intricate gestures; silvery glyphs shimmering in the air above her head. Talen leaned against the wall and slowly sank to the floor as further evidence of the truth blasted away any lingering doubts.

"You said you would explain." He said softly, half to himself.

"Later Talen, please, I'm trying to concentrate." the princess said as she continued to manipulate the air above her. Finally she dropped her hands and a spider crack zigzagged through the ceiling. The middle suddenly started chipping away and sunlight streamed down onto the staircase.

Overhead pieces lifted away until there was a small hole with warm light pouring through.

Danae dusted off her hands and turned to Talen. "Could you lift me up please?"

Talen stood and walked silently to Danae. She studied him. "Are you alright Talen?" she asked.

"Yes, my lady."

Danae tipped her head to one side and tried to look into Talen's eyes. He avoided her gaze and instead lifted the petite princess. She took a hold of the outer edge of the hole and pulled herself through leaving Talen alone for a moment.

The Pandion took a breath. The overwhelming emotions assailing him made him feel dizzy; anger, hurt, betrayal. The past few days had their rigors, he had barely slept for nearly two nights and he spent the last half an hour fighting things that were already dead. Everything seemed like a surreal nightmare, one from which he wished he would wake up from.

Danae… Aphrael…they really were the same person.

Talen looked up. He was sure, but he wanted…

He wanted to hear it from _her._


	16. Confrontation

Author's Note: I have no excuses…I just couldn't pull it together, until now. So here is the next chapter. I know I have no business asking anyone to review, it's been so long since I updated, but…please review anyway? Please? :(

The late, great David and Leigh Eddings own everything from the Elenium and Tamuli, not me so…on with the story!

(review!)

* * *

A Thief In Armor (Arc 2)

* * *

Chapter 15: Confrontation

* * *

Part I.

* * *

A pure blue sky loomed overhead, its cerulean brilliance unmarred by even the trace of a cloud. The sun, arrayed in all its fiery radiance, beat down on a borderless sea of grass plains extending east, west, and south to the distant horizon. The only edifice of any variety loomed in the north; a set of arching aqueducts rising in majestic heights over the cool gurgling sound of a shallow river.

All thoughts of confrontation and the previous question fled from Talen's mind as he stared in disbelief at the scene before his eyes. "Where are we …and where the hell is _Chyrellos_?!"

Danae stood a few yards away, her arms wrapped around herself as she gazed into the distance. Her dark eyes were a mystery as she studied the arches. Finally she gave a small sigh and seemed to return to herself.

"Danae…" Talen tried again. His world was literally falling out from underneath him and he felt badly shaken. The dark haired princess turned from her minute study of the shallow river.

"Now is not the time for a collective apoplexy, Talen. We should keep moving."

"Where?" Talen shrieked, throwing his hands in the air. "We are standing in the middle of nowhere if you haven't noticed!"

Danae tipped her head to one side and waved a dismissive hand. "You really need to calm down, Talen. Throwing fits is really poor etiquette for a Knight."

Talen was silent for two heartbeats. "…poor…etiquette? Are you serious, Danae? Is it _poor etiquette_ for a Styric god to parade around as an Elenian princess? Is it _poor etiquette_ to lie to your friends and family? Is it _poor etiquette_ to use people like puppets for you own perverse entertainments?"

"You are blowing this out of proportion." Danae replied with a slight edge to her voice.

Talen took no heed. "You enjoy it, don't you? He said reflectively, his voice lined with disgust, "Toying with our existence as if we were lifeless figures on a chessboard."

Danae turned fully toward him and narrowed her eyes. "Don't be absurd, it is not like…"

Talen interrupted "That's exactly what it is! Danae or Flute or whatever you are calling yourself at the moment! You are just as heartless and ruthless as any of the elder gods! You just like to meddle more!" He said stabbing his finger at the petite young woman.

For once the young princess seemed as if she would actually lose her composure. Tears stood openly in her eyes.

"It's easy isn't it? Talen? To make rash judgments when you understand so little. Do you know what else is easy? Making people do what you want by _force_. It's easy to hate your enemies and kill them, completely wiping them out of existence simply because you _can_."

Talen whirled around and started toward the shallow river, but the princess' words easily caught up to his ears.

"Do you know what's _hard_, Talen? Finding a way to stop enmity between people who are bent on mutual annihilation. You know what's hard? Trusting those who have slaughtered your people for no reason."

Talen spun back around, but his refute died in his throat at the sight of Danae's tear stained face.

"You weren't there…when the elder gods reigned. It was worse then hell, Talen," she continued. "Anon built a tower as massive as the Basilica out of the bones of his human sacrifices… Thirteen lifetimes it took to end the domination of the elder gods…three millennia of the war, death and destruction before that. How could you ever compare me to one of those monsters?"

Talen stood silent as the bright sun mocked his dark and torn soul.

The silence stretched and Danae abruptly wiped the moisture from her eyes and swept past Talen. Too deeply confused and angry to do anything else, he followed at a distance.

The sun had begun its decent to the west when the two reached the shallow river. Talen shaded his eyes as he looked up at the massive arches of the aqueducts. They reached incredibly high and consisted of a pattern of dark bricks he had never seen before. The shadows fell over the water coloring the stream with rivets of blue and midnight.

Talen followed Danae as they made their way up the river, no words being exchanged between the two. The Pandion wondered if he should apologize. He felt bad, but his anger got the better of him as did his wounded pride. After all this time he should have somehow figured it out. Berit had even hinted at the subject several times, but Talen had thought it far too ridiculous to be true.

A princess and a goddess, how did she manage that? Talen was painfully curious, but the volley of questions was held in check by the previous argument. He was never talking to Danae again, he resolved. He choked back a disgusted sound. If she had her way he would be propped up on the throne of Elenia playing prince consort, dressed like all those pansy flops at court.

He would never see the light of day, never travel to the Tamuli continent again, never ride out with the Peloi, or train with the Cyrinics. He would never run the backstreets of Cheadin or lift trinkets from the pockets of wealthy Cimmurans. He would be trapped at court bored to death in endless counsel meetings and getting flabby from sitting on his behind all day.

Suicide seemed a more viable option.

Talen could not even consider the implications of being married to a Styric goddess. A wave of fear made him feel dizzy. So intent was he on his musings that he didn't notice the body lying facedown on the ground until he nearly tripped over it.

Talen dropped to his knees and shoved the body over. It was Kyyis. "Danae!" he called discarding his earlier resolution. The young princess turned back and seeing Kyyis, quickly rushed over. Talen's brother was still breathing, but completely unconscious with dried blood on his right temple.

"Kyyis!" Talen shouted, trying to shake his brother awake.

"Stop jostling him!" Danae commanded as she knelt on the other side of the wounded man. Talen abruptly stopped and leaned back on his heels. The princess touched the Knight's temple and studied him intently. After what seemed like a lifetime to Talen she leaned back.

"He seems to be alright, but he may not wake up for awhile." She said.

"What happened to him?"

Danae shook her head. "I don't know. I think he got hit in the head or fell down as he was running from something."

Talen's brows furrowed. "Can't you just…you know…" Talen wiggled his fingers.

Danae gave him a dark look. "No, I don't just go traipsing around in people's minds for fun."

"Oh…I see."

The princess continued to look down at the unconscious man. "Why don't you get him some water, Talen? He's probably dehydrated."

Talen nodded and jumped up to go to the river. The pair had been traveling close to the water and the endless grasslands kept Kyyis visible to Talen as he sprinted to the river's edge. He patted his clothes searching for his canteen. He finally found it and held it against the waters edge.

He returned to where Kyyis was and handed the pouch to the princess. She tore a piece of her sleeve off and moistened it with the water gently cleaning the blood at Kyyis' temple. It was a maternal gesture, full of care and concern. Talen felt a bit of his anger lessen as he watched.

Feeling suddenly drained he sat down next to Kyyis. The sun continued to sink in the sky, the bright afternoon fading into a lavender and violet hued evening. The fading rays of light drenched across the companions keeping silent vigil. The long hours crept away bringing the darkness of a fading day.

_________________

Part II.

_________________

Khalad stared at the gruesome battlefield. It could be worse, the young preceptor reasoned as he did a swift headcount of the remaining Pandions still in the field. The retreat was proceeding according to plan, but Khalad couldn't to be too careful, he didn't want what happened to the eighty seven to happen to any more of his men.

The scouts had brought back no intelligence concerning the fate of the men left behind the first day of the siege. Khalad was nervous to say the least, still no news meant there was still hope. Finally the last of the mounted Knights rode into the side entrance. Khalad nodded, signaling the opening to be shut.

This new tactic had proven to be very successful. He and Sparhawk had developed them while Khalad had still been the squire of the former preceptor. The idea was that during a siege, the last thing the enemy expected was for the gate to open. The first step was to open the gate and allow the front lines of the adversary in. Then when he was partially committed, the gates were closed. The enemy inside were systematically slaughter by strategically placed archers. Meanwhile, the ones outside were treated to burning tar, naphtha, and other deadly surprises.

During this, a contingent of Knights would come around from the secret entrances of the Chapterhouse and charge through all the confused fighters. The Knights would then return while the enemy was distracted by an illusory force coming from the other side.

According to the sketchy reports from his scouts, all adepts in the secrets; the enemy force had been reduced by a quarter thanks to the attack. Khalad grinned darkly, they would reduce it some more when the reinforcements arrived.

"Preceptor Khalad, sir!" One of the novitiates ran up to Khalad.

"Calm yourself." Khalad said sternly to the youth. The young man straightened up and snapped to attention.

"There's a woman, she…she appeared out of nowhere and demands to see you. We have her in one of the holding cells."

Khalad frowned. His gut told him to be on guard. He grabbed on of his smaller daggers and slipped it under his sleeve. "Take me to her."

The novitiate nodded and nearly ran out the door with Khalad right on his heels. They reached the holding cell, its dank underground location not unlike many dungeons. Two Knights stood guard against the door, both looking uncertain and nervous. Khalad pulled one aside, outside of earshot of the cell.

"What happened?" he said as he waved the lingering novitiate away. Once Khalad was sure the novitiate was gone, he nodded the Knight to begin.

"I don't know how she got in, sir…she just appeared in the middle of the courtyard'" The Knight said lifting his hands in a helpless gesture.

"What did she say?" Khalad asked. The guard shook his head. "She said 'bring your preceptor to me immediately' and er…she called me a 'detestable knave'."

Khalad raised an eyebrow. "Quite something isn't she?" The Knight nodded nervously. "Well, let's see what she wants, shall we?" Khalad asked.

The preceptor signaled the other guard to open the door. The keys jingled and the door creaked open, an ominous sound in the silence of the hold. Khalad inched forward carefully into the room. He flexed his fingers, keeping them loose and prepared.

At first he didn't see the figure seated on the low bench. Being underground, the hold wasn't especially well lit and the woman wore a dark hooded cape which obscured her face. The Pandion preceptor broke the silence as he was never one for a pregnant silence.

"I was told you wanted to see me, ma'am?" He asked in a bland voice.

The prisoner lifted her glove clad hands and pushed back her hood. Underneath regally arched brows burned the eyes of a fanatic. The strangely glossy depths glimmered ebony without the aid of any light. Khalad knew instinctively that he was dealing with a very dangerous woman.

"You are…preceptor Khalad?" Her voice had strange inflections, and a slight undertone that made the preceptor's skin crawl.

"I am. May I ask who you are ma'am? And how you managed to find your way here?"

The woman crossed her legs. "I am called Shendar, and I come with a proposition for you, preceptor."

Khalad narrowed his eyes, his instincts screaming at him the wrongness of the situation. "What is your proposition Shendar? Make it quick—I have this little siege on my hands."

The woman smiled slightly, but her eyes burned darker. "I can make that army go away, preceptor," she said.

"Is that so?" Khalad asked gritting his teeth. "I wonder if you could prove that?"

The woman pursed her lips. "Do not insult me preceptor. I brought the army here easily enough and I can remove them just as easily."

"Just for the sake of argument, let's say I actually believed you, Shendar. What would you want to make the army go away?" Khalad asked, a tic working in his jaw.

"Simply information, preceptor," she answered. "Your brother recently left the Chapterhouse. I require his location and whatever you know about his so-called 'quest'"

"Why in god's name would I tell you that?" Khalad scoffed.

Shendar laced her fingers together. "I will find out where Talen is in either case; I am merely giving you the opportunity to avert a war. When the time comes for my master to awaken, this siege will seem like a minor skirmish…Do you want to save your men, Khalad?" she asked lowering her voice. "Or do you want to allow them to suffer the same fate of those eighty-seven you left for dead?"

In two steps Khalad closed the distance and grabbed the cloak of the prisoner, lifting her to her feet. "Where are they!" he roared, pulling her to eye level. The woman threw back her head and let out a high pitched laugh. Before his next breath, Khalad was being flung across the room. The woman continued laughing, still suspended in midair with no apparent help.

Her screeching cackle rung in Khalad's ears as his back connected with the far wall and he slumped to the ground. Shendar lifted her hands in a gesture of supplication. "Now, you maggot, face the wrath of the arm of H'va-ken!"

Incandescent light filled the Khalad's vision, and then everything went black.

__________________

Part III.

__________________

It was an unrelenting journey.

Sparhawk no longer looked at the sky, its infernal burning made his stomach clench. Not that the charred ground was any better. At least he could see his feet moving forward to whatever lay ahead. Beside him, Sparhawk's companion walked at a seemingly leisurely pace, but it was brisk enough to keep abreast of the Pandion.

Sparhawk had no idea how long he walked beside his pale-eyed ally. It could have been an hour or a decade. The Elenian had tried to draw his companion out in conversation but the comments of the strange man had been enigmatic and evasive.

Eventually it was the pale-eyed man who broke the silence. "The woman thou doth call Lillias… is she an acquaintance of thine?" he asked.

Sparhawk was startled as the deep voice broke the otherwise profound silence. The Elenian prince considered how to answer and decided to be candid. "She was my lover during the years I was in exile from my homeland."

This seemed to pique the pale-eyed man's interest as he arched an eyebrow at "Sparhawk. "Seest thou no strangeness in her action and behavior?"

"Like a giant Onyx?" Sparhawk interrupted, "Or the ability to fly? No she was, at least as far as I could tell, a bit high stung and given to melodrama…but I could say the same of many women."

That particular comment dredged a rueful laugh out of the pale-eyed man. The action transformed the strange man's stern face dramatically. One moment he was an austere, overly –serious, and generally intimidating figure, but when he laughed the lines of his face relaxed and rather closely resembled a benevolent grandfather.

The unexpected amusement almost stopped Sparhawk from noticing the change around him. The barren earth was subtly changing into a rocky outcrop. If the Pandion strained, he could even hear the sound of the distant ocean.

Sparhawk felt his heartbeat quicken as the salty tang of the unknown sea reached his nostrils. Imperceptibly he picked up his pace longing with every fiber of his being to see the water.

"We will reach our destination shortly, Anakha. There danger and decisions await thee. It is thy choice, though I advice thee to take heed to my counsel."

Sparhawk frowned. "I will listen friend, but I keep my own counsel."

That seemed to satisfy Sparhawk's companion and the silence stretched between them.

Abruptly the fire ended along with the earth. The shore was unlike any shore Sparhawk had ever seen, even in his distant travels to the Tamul Empire. The colors of the coastline were oddly transparent; as if they were in more than one place. The shore line was wrenched and uneven; a testament to the earlier cataclysm.

Strangest of all were the gates. Spaced out in uneven intervals were several gates. They were all of differing patterns and materials, but all seemed to be isolated on the sands. Even stranger, the immediate area surrounding each gate seemed to be another place entirely with different lighting and vegetation.

"Where…what is this place?" Sparhawk asked in wonder as he approached the promontory overlooking the coast.

"Thy actions, Anakha…even thy presence, have disrupt the precarious balance of this world. What thou regardest as absolute truth; time, space, distance…it is only so because the mightiest of us have decreed it must be."

"That doesn't answer my question, friend."

The pale-eyed man held up a hand. "Allow me to finish. What lies before thee is, in truth, choices. I have seen that it is difficult for man to grasp truth that is intangible, so I have lain before thee what is concrete."

The pale-eyed man spread his arm back indicating the direction they had come from. "Hereto, thou hast wandered in a land unchanging. So thy world will become so long as thou makest no decision. Barren…and condemned to destruction."

Sparhawk interrupted. "So, friend, you saying that if I do nothing, the world will end?"

The pale-eyed man nodded gravelly. "Why?" Sparhawk asked. "I'm not a god and I gave up any power I had when I relinquished the Bhelliom."

"Thou must seeth the truth." The pale-eye man pleaded, clearly frustrated at Sparhawk's lack of perception. "Thy power is not the mere holding of a stone! Thy power is thy nature. Thou art Anakha. Thou art unfettered by the constraints of fate, yet by thy actions is the world unmade!"

Sparhawk sighed. He wasn't really in the mood for a philosophical debate. "Alright, so I'm assuming you want me to save the world again, right?"

The strange man regarded him closely. "Yes, but it will require more of thee than wielding force. First, thou must choose." Sparhawk's companion pointed down at the beach.

"Each of the gates leadeth to one who is connected to thee. Thy errant threads have imperiled the world. Thou must make the threads straight again before thou proceedeth to the next part of thy sojourn."

"I get it, friend. Do you know which gate leads to my wife?"

The pale-eyed man pointed to a wrought iron fence that was surrounded by cobblestones and a steady drizzle of rain. Sparhawk turned to sprint down the beach.

"Thinkest thou on thy decision, thy mate is in no immediate danger, thy other companions require thy aid more." The pale-eyed man called to him.

Sparhawk stopped, the rain-spattered gate leading to his wife looming before him. With all his strength he tore his eyes away along with his sudden hope to see his lovely gray-eyed bride. "Where would you advise me to go?" Sparhawk asked his companion.

The strange man leaped from the promontory directly onto the sands of the beach. His cloak billowing out behind him, he walked to a gate made of dark patterned stones with sunlight streaming through.

"Follow, Anakha. Follow."


	17. Resilience

Author's Note: Well, it's here. I know I am a very bad person for taking so long to update. Maybe you readers will decide to review anyway. I appreciate it but I realize that I really don't deserve it.

Anyway, here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it. As always, the books in the Elenium and Tamuli belong to the late David and Leigh Eddings, I own nothing.

A Thief in Armor (Arc II)

Chapter 16: Resilience

**Part I.**

The chamber was dimly lit, the dark red drapes seeming to drink the brightness of the sconces set about. The floor was patterned stone, ancient beyond recall. Slender windows, elegant in their simplicity, filtered starlight into the chamber patterning the floor with rivets of silver and gold.

The unique mix bathed the woman lying motionless on the plush pallet. Her skin was pale and luminous and her dark hair framed her face and shoulders. She seemed as still as a statue except for the slight rising and falling of her chest.

"Dear one, you should rest. There is nothing you can do for her at the moment." Sephrenia said softly.

Sir Bevier looked up at the familiar voice and shook his head slightly. "I will remain, tis' my duty…"

Sephrenia studied the handsome, brooding knight. "Are you sure it is duty that compels you to remain close to her?"

Bevier turned to the former Pandion tutor and bowed. "I promised, my lady, when you brought her to us that I would protect her with every ounce of my ability. I intend to do so." He answered emphatically.

Sephrenia tilted her head to the side as a small smile played on her lips. She walked closer to the pallet set up for her young apprentice and laid her palm on the sleeping woman. "There was always something special about Y'phira. She is superb with the secrets…but I've seen better masters. It is something else, elusive to me, as strange as that may seem. That is why I brought her to you."

The handsome Knight's brow creased in thought "I don't understand, little mother. How am I of any significance to your apprentice?" Bevier asked.

Sephrenia looked up and smiled at the curious man. "Well, that is quite a long story, dear one."

Bevier grinned back. "Well, I love stories."

_The sun beat down on the bright shrubs of the northland. "I don't understand, love. If hetai is so poisonous, why are we going all this distance to get it?" Vanion asked as he and his companion rode at a slow trot north._

"_Hae-ti, beloved, watch your emphasis. The plant is deadly, but the antidote is extracted from the same herb. Besides, in tiny amounts it provides temporary feelings of invincibility. Perfect to even the odds in some circumstances, as I am sure you understand." Sephrenia shot her husband a knowing look. Vanion nodded as several possibilities for the rare herb ran through his head. "And this collector friend of yours gathers it for you, isn't that dangerous as well?"_

"_For her, no love. The villagers are naturally immune…" Sephrenia stopped as the smell of smoke reached her nostrils. Vanion must have smelled it as well because he turned his mount sharply toward the scent. It was coming from their destination._

"_The village!" Sephrenia gasped in alarm._

_The horses raced along the game trail, weaving through the thick shrubs and bushes until they reached the Styric settlement. _

_They were too late._

_Only charred remains of the once vibrant population remained. Here and there flames still burned, but the destruction was several hours old. "My god, what happened here?" Vanion said softly as he dismounted from his horse and helped his wife off the other one. Sephrenia narrowed her eyes and uttered a string of curses._

"_What is it?" Vanion asked urgently._

"_Vile magic has been used here!" She said promptly. _

"_We should get some help," Vanion said, moving to return to his horse._

_Sephrenia sighed. "Let's check for survivors first."_

_The two crossed the village looking for any sign of survivors. After two hours of searching they found none. Vanion glanced anxiously at his wife. Lines of despair were etched into her lovely blue eyes making her seem haunted and surreal._

"_Come my love, there's nothing left here."_

"_I suppose you are right, dear one…" she said softly, but stopped as she heard a soft whispering._

"_Did you hear that?" she said sharply to Vanion._

"_Hear what?" he asked, confused._

_Sephrenia turned about as the faint whispering continued; it was stronger from a certain direction._

_At once she set off to the large burned temple she and Vanion had searched earlier._

"_Beloved, we already checked here." He reminded her._

_Her intent look silenced him and he followed her, unsheathing his sword._

_The temple was burned but the fire apparently hadn't been strong enough to do more than more than singe the marble and consume the inside furnishings. The benches remained intact and Sephrenia slowly threaded her way between them as she made her way to the altar at the front. _

_There, rising majestically from the center was a massive statue of Aphrael, lovely and serene, almost lifelike from the skill of the sculptor. The statue alone was devoid of any form of damage, sparkling in its quartz and marble brilliance. _

_The whispers undoubtedly stemmed from this area, to Sephrenia's mind it seemed as if the voices all individually subdued, but together sounded like the rushing of mighty waters. The former Pandion tutor looked at the smiling face of her goddess wondering what it meant for her to do. _

_Vanion stood beside her quiet and alert. Sephrenia stepped forward and lifted her hand to the statue. Gently she pressed her fingers to the heart of her lovely goddess and a rumbling shook the ground. She found herself hastily pulled away as an opening in the ground opened up before her. _

"_Watch yourself, love!" Vanion said as he lifted his wife away from the gap._

_Any further instruction he had was interrupted by the anxious cries of several high pitched voices. Sephrenia leaned over the edge of the gap and peered inside the dark hole._

_The faces of several children greeted her._

"_Vanion, help me!" she said urgently as she turned toward the children with soothing words. _

_One by one, they lifted the children out. There were 22 in all, ranging from infants to young teenagers. Slowly a partial account of the events of the destruction of the village emerged. A strange magician had arrived at the village and demanded to see the elder. _

_After the elder arrived the magician murdered her and proceeded to destroy the village. Those who could ran to the relative safety of Aphrael's temple and barred the doors. However, eventually the magician had broken through and the adults fought him with whatever skill they possessed. _

_It wasn't enough. Eventually the powerful magician had killed every villager and went into the temple to find the only ones who remained, the children. Despite a desperate search the evil magician couldn't find the children's hiding spot so he instead set fire to the temple._

"_But how did you find this hiding spot?" Vanion asked the children as he and Sephrenia wrapped the young ones in blankets and gave them food. The children grew hushed and looked toward one of the teenagers sitting apart from the group._

_The older girl looked up and Vanion was immediately struck by how much the girl looked like his beloved wife seated next to him. He shared a quick look with Sephrenia and carefully made his way to the girl._

_The child's blue-grey eyes widened in fear as Vanion approached, and the former preceptor slowed giving the girl a disarming smile. _

"_Hello," he started in his accented Styric. "What is your name?"_

_The girl drew her knees to her chest and her thick black hair fell across her face. "Y'phira, sir, sir…"_

"_Vanion," he supplied quickly. "It's all right now. My wife and I won't let anything hurt you."_

_The girl Y'phira peeked out from behind her wealth of hair and gave him a look of trepidation. "…But what if it comes back?" she said._

_Sephrenia had joined her mate. "Then we will deal with it, dear one." She said softly to the girl._

_The girl stared at Sephrenia intently. She nodded and gave a small smile. Sephrenia immediately felt a sense of proprietary affection for the girl. "Come." She said extending her hand and drew Y'phira to her feet._

"How she knew about the statue's hiding place, I could never figure out...the strange whispers that led me to the children where just as mysterious." Sephrenia continued to her rapt audience. She turned and walked to the slender window where the pale moonlight streamed in.

"She was always a shy child, and traumatized by her ordeal. She wouldn't speak of it. I had no difficulty finding places for my other apprentices; they each found their niche in Sarsos, but Y'phira…"

"You brought her to us," Bevier answered quietly.

Sephrenia nodded. "Yes, but not to replace your tutor, at least not at first. She would not leave Vanion and me; she grew upset and afraid if I even suggested such. But when we visited the Cyrinic Chapterhouse she immediately took to you."

Bevier looked down at the unconscious woman his dark eyes thoughtful. "But why?"

"She said you made her feel safe." Sephrenia said simply. "She asked to stay on as your tutor, and she has flourished under your care, Bevier."

"I…" Bevier was lost for words.

Sephrenia merely smiled. "I have an idea of what is going on," she said glancing out the window, where half of Chyrellos had vanished, only to be replaced with an inferno-hued wasteland. "…but none of us knows everything. I believe Y'phira has a part to play, as do you, dear one."

**Part II.**

Sir Ulath reclined idly on the stool of the dimly lit tavern, one foot propped against the table as his charming Evonae strolled toward him with another pint of ale.

"Would you like some refreshments my lord?" she asked as she graciously held out the decanter to him. Ulath grinned as he reached for the decanter and set it aside.

"Actually my darling, I believe its time for desert." He responded as he reached forward and took the lovely auburn woman around the waist and dragged her closer.

"Why sir Ulath! I didn't know you enjoyed sweets so much!" Evonae purred as she leaned forward invitingly.

"Only when they taste as delicious as you." Ulath said huskily.

"Indeed, sir Ulath, you are quite the connoisseur." Evonae said leaning in closer until her luscious lips were only a hair's breadth away. Ulath puckered his lips in anticipation.

"Sir Ulath, are you well? Sir? Can you hear me, sir Ulath? Dirkiem asked shaking the large, unconscious Genidian Knight.

Ulath's lovely dream splintered apart along with the lovely Evonae as the Genidian Knight felt the hard ground beneath him and hands shaking him roughly.

"Do you really think saying 'sir Ulath' over and over again will wake him up?" Rhamik interrupted as he folded his arms. He stood with his back to the bright sunlight casting a dark shadow over the awakening knight. Ulath felt a slight breeze tickle at his chin as the wind blew the blood stained grass in waves.

"I do not see you offering any great ideas." Dirkeim said frowning up at his brother.

"I sure there's something better than your idiotic whining _sir Ulath, sir Ulath_!" Rhamik imitated in a nasal high-pitched voice.

"You have a great deal of nerve calling me idiotic and I wasn't whining!" Dirkeim retorted.

"Was so- _sir Ulath, sir Ulath_!" Rhamik waved his hands in the air "Wake up please! I want to go see your pretty niece so I can drool over her like the sodden half-wit I am!"

"Why you childish, impudent, pigheaded fool!" Dirkiem shouted as he leapt to his feet and made a grab for his brother.

Rhamik was fast, but not fast enough to dodge his brother's rage filled charge. He got his hands up but Dirkeim grabbed his younger brother's shirt holding him still for an ensuing pummeling. Realizing this, Rhamik quickly pulled back his fist hoping to beat Dirkeim to the punch.

Unfortunately, Ulath, who lay between the feuding brothers, happened to sit up at that moment pulling both men off balance and causing them to sprawl into the unsuspecting knight.

After suffering an elbow in the ribs and a knee in the groin, Ulath finally disentangled himself and bodily lifted both Dirkeim and Rhamik by the scruffs of their necks, glaring at them murderously as the young men sputtered apologies.

Disgusted, Ulath dropped them both leaving Kurik's sons slack jawed. "Where's Sparhawk!" He demanded.

The brothers looked at each other and shrugged in unison. "We don't know sir, we thought you might." Dirkheim answered.

Ulath sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Get up boys!" He ordered Kurik's sons. "Gather up the survivors! We need to get to Chyrellos!"

Rhamik raised an eyebrow at Ulath. "That may be difficult, sir."

"Why?" Ulath demanded.

"'Cause Chyrellos ain't there anymore." He said, pointing.

Ulath followed Rhamik's line of sight and gasped. Instead of the holy city, an inferno-hued wasteland loomed.

**Part III.**

As the last vestiges of daylight settled below the horizon, Kyyis' eyes fluttered open and he groaned in pain.

"Ever the night owls aren't we bro?" Talen muttered as he rapidly patted his brother's jaw attempting to jar him into consciousness. The technique worked as Kyyis blinked slowly and grabbed Talen's wrist.

"I'm up! Stop hitting me!" Kyyis growled in a croaking voice.

Talen bit back a sigh of relief. "Sorry Kyyis, but naptime is over. What happened to you?"

Kyyis pulled himself up to balance on his elbows and looked around with a bewildered expression. Talen shared his brother's confusion. The sky continued to darken in the late evening, but the stars that were emerging were none that he could identify. The heavenly expanses held none of the usual constellations but strange groupings of stars that were somehow eerily familiar.

The majestic aqueducts still loomed to the west, but the evening had wreathed the lovely edifices with an ominous darkness. Thief's mentality that he had, Talen felt distinctly vulnerable in the open grasslands of this odd place with no concealment for as far as the eye could see.

"Feeling better, Kyyis?" Danae's voice interjected.

Talen's jaw clenched his anger at her betrayal returning. He remained silent, not trusting himself to speak.

"I'll be fine princess, just as soon as I wake up from this foul, strange nightmare."

"Nightmare?" asked Danae.

Kyyis flung his arm out indicating their surroundings. "One moment we are looking for some dead Archprelate, next thing I know several dead Archprelates are looking for _me!_ Then I head back up to the surface only to come out here!"

"Listen to me, Kyyis," Danae said grabbing the Knight's shoulder. "This is _not_ a nightmare. Something happened, something cataclysmic. We have to find a way out of here."

Kyyis shook his head refusing to believe it. Danae sighed imperceptibly looking at Talen in askance. Talen glared back at her.

_"Will you please explain to him?"_ Her voice sounded in his mind.

"_Stay out of my head!"_ He responded vehemently, pressing against the feeling of her presence.

Danae reeled back suddenly as if struck. Her eyes grew large in shock and hurt. Talen turned away abruptly as guilt and satisfaction warred in his chest. He picked up his pack and slung it over his shoulder.

"Nightmare or not, we are too exposed here. We need to find some cover." Talen said. This strange place was getting to him, not to mention his mixed feelings toward a certain Elenian princess.

He helped his brother to his feet, avoiding looking at Danae directly.

"It's only getting darker." Kyyis pointed out.

"We might as well step right along then." Talen retorted. Kyyis shrugged and stretched, seemingly none the worse for wear. Apparently Danae's efforts had been successful with his brother's injuries. Talen felt his anger abate slightly and he stole a quick glance at the goddess-princess. Her head was lowered her dark brows creased in thought.

Talen wondered why he had not seen the truth sooner. He was usually very astute in such matters, especially when it came to people who carried secrets. But, Talen mused, Aphrael was a goddess and she could probably tamper with his thoughts if she wanted to. That epiphany made Talen's blood run cold for an instant before it was replaced with hot fury.

The Pandion increased his pace. He wanted to put as much distance between himself and the princess as possible.

Unfortunately for the party, there was no concealment to be had. Talen, Kyyis, and Danae had trekked north for a quarter hour before the darkness made further travel useless. They moved closer to the shallow river reasoning that the shadows of the aqueducts would provide the closest thing to cover.

Irritated, Talen settled on the ground to pick through his slender pack. He had taken enough supplies to get him through a lengthy search through the subterranean crypts. As a result, the group had very few provisions, and next to nothing to make camp with.

Talen was sorely tempted to ask Danae if there was any divine assistance she could give, whether in the way of provisions or even directions in this strange land. He was a breath away from asking but caught himself before he said anything. He didn't trust the enigmatic princess. She had her own world. Talen had seen it. For all he knew this could be a construct of her design.

He watched her warily as she assembled a makeshift pallet from her cloak and pack and settled down to sleep. She gave Talen a brief look and closed her eyes, murmuring a quiet goodnight.

"Talen you should get some sleep too." Kyyis said, staring off into the distance. "I'll keep first watch; I'm not really all that tired."

Talen smirked. "That's because you spent half the day snoring." He muttered as he arranged his own pallet.

"I do not snore!" Kyyis said indignantly.

"Really?" Talen said mildly. "Must have been a bear nearby when I found you."

Kyyis treated Talen to a derisive snort as he started away from where Talen was settling himself on the hard ground. Unable to sleep, Talen found himself studying Danae who had drifted off. It was dark, but the young princess was close enough that he could make out her features; the soft curve of her cheek, the arch of her dark eyebrows, the flair of her lashes.

Beneath her cloak her petite figure was outlined. Talen frowned, his chest flaring with an ache. She seemed so vulnerable lying there, so small. He had known Danae since she was born. He had carried her before she was able to walk. He remembered how she would hold up her hands in mute plea, her dark eyes wide and imploring. He rarely denied her, and once in his arms she would twine her chubby arms around his neck and nestle into the crook of his arm. If he really concentrated he could remember how her silky hair felt against his jaw. He had felt so protective of her. She was so small, and so apt to find trouble.

Now, looking at her, even knowing her true nature, he still felt protective of her. It was an odd assortment of feelings welling inside, protectiveness and anger, among other feelings he couldn't identify in his exhaustion, making his chest heavy. He sighed, assured that he would find no sleep that evening. He was wrong.

His dreams were vivid. He stood under Kurik's oak watching the brilliant green leaves undulate and wave in the wind under a sky so clear and pure he was mesmerized. He talked to his father, Kurik, long dead, but nevertheless present.

"It's time to be moving on from here don't you think?" He asked.

"I would if I knew how father," Talen answered sullenly.

Kurik barked a laugh. "The answers right in front of you, lad. Get your head out of your arse and you'll see it."

Talen frowned and looked back up at the oak and sighed. "I wish I could just stay here. Everything is so confusing now."

Kurik put an arm around Talen's shoulders. "Everything isn't meant to be understood, Talen. But you have a choice."

"What choice?" Talen asked.

"You accept the world you've been given as it is or…" Kurik grew silent.

"Or what?" Talen prompted.

"Or, you fight to make it what you want it to be." Kurik said.

Talen drew away from his father. "How do you fight something you don't even understand?"

Kurik gripped Talen's shoulder hard enough to hurt. "Listen to me Talen. We are running out of time. You have power. It's untried, untapped, but its there. Hear me! You must finish your task!"

Talen tried to shake free of Kurik's grip but it was unrelenting. "Father, I don't understand! I don't even know how to get home."

Kurik finally released him and Talen felt himself falling as Kurik and his oak began to darken. His father's words echoed in his mind as Talen lost his purchase.

"This errant thread is of your own making. Use your adversary to break free of your own bonds."

The darkness became absolute as Talen continued to fall, feelings of vertigo pressing his stomach against his spine. He was dizzy and lightheaded and his coherent thoughts scrambled.

"Talen? Are you all right?" A lilting, musical voice was asking him.

Disoriented, Talen's instincts kicked in as he grabbed the woman leaning over him and pulled her to the ground, turning over to pin her underneath him.

He stared at Danae's wide brown eyes. "It's just me, Talen." She said breathlessly as she squirmed beneath his forearm.

Suddenly he was awash in sensations. Soft skin beneath his fingertips, the salty tang of tasted lips, the warmth of mingled breath, the light scrape of nails against his scalp. He was kissing her. Aphrael, Danae, Flute? Her name didn't seem important at the moment as he ran the tip of his tongue across her mouth, her lips parting. He deepened his kiss drawing the goddess-princess closer. A recklessness had taken over him as he devoured her, drawing his fingertips away from her soft skin to delve in to her dark-silky hair.

Sucking softly on her lower lip he finally drew away, Danae opened her eyes, drowsy and glazed with desire. Talen felt as if he was drowning slowly and trailed soft, wet kisses along her jaw and down the slender column of her neck. He pressed his lips against the hollow of her throat and traced his tongue lightly to where her neck met her shoulder and bit lightly, sucking at the spot.

He was close enough to feel her stammering heartbeat and hear her uneven breathing. He lifted his head and stared down at her wondering what in the world he was thinking. Danae gazed back at him, mirroring confusion and desire. She leaned up and drew him back into another intense kiss.

In intense flash seared the back of Talen's eyelids and was immediately followed by the deafening crashing of thunder. Startled back to his senses, Talen pulled away from Danae as a water pellet struck his face. He looked up to see that morning had come upon him all unaware.

Instead of the sky being its clear cerulean blue, however, it was covered end to end with great bulbous clouds of a menacing grey. A streak of violet light flashed, streaking the area white again and a cacophonous thunder jarred the ground.

Immediately the heavens loosened the awaiting torrent. The rain began falling in great pounding sheets.

"What the hell!" Kyyis said, sitting bolt upright from his pallet. He scrambled to collect his provisions. "Damn! We need cover! How are we going to get out of this?"

Talen was also gathering his supplies. He had pulled his hood over his head but the covering was utterly useless. The rain had already drenched them. Talen felt panic grip him as his skin grew cold and clammy for the downpour. Suddenly, he remembered his father's words from his dream. _The answer is right in front of you_.

Talen looked around desperately but there was only drenched grass extending in every direction.

Except for the river.

Talen stilled. The _aqueducts_…Talen knew somehow they held the answer to the riddle of this strange place.

"Follow me!" He yelled to his two companions, his voice nearly drowned out in the loud rain.

The Pandion thief turned and ran for the river. He heard Kyyis screaming his protest but the words were cut off by the rain. Quickly Talen splashed into the shallow water and made his way toward the nearest towering aqueduct.

He was completely soaked as he splashed through the rapidly rising water, the arches of the massive aqueduct looming closer. Complicating matters, a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky reminding Talen of the danger of his endeavors, if lightning struck the river…

Talen redoubled his efforts to reach the nearest aqueduct, the beautiful structure towering into the sky. Talen hazarded a glance over his shoulder and was reassured that Kyyis and Danae were following him even in the near invisibility of the flash storm.

Finally, when he was within a few feet of the aqueduct he saw a strange flicker in the opening beneath the arches. It looked like a room consisting of stones, but as quickly as it appeared it resumed the original perspective of the now raging river.

Talen fought to keep his balance as he waited for Kyyis and Danae to reach him. Danae was unable to, and to Talen's horror she went under the rain-churned water. Talen turned and ran toward the spot where Danae had gone under. Kyyis was flailing desperately, trying to maintain his own balance while frantically casting about for the submerged princess.

Talen let go and went completely underwater desperately feeling around for the princess. The turbulent rapids kept him from being able to see anything under the water.

His heart hammering in his chest, Talen desperately felt about and finally caught a hold of a piece of Danae's garment. He clutched and pulled and a moment later they both emerged from the water sputtering and breathing heavily.

"Do you have her?" Kyyis screamed against the torrent.

"Aye!" Talen said holding Danae against his side as she coughed up more water. He dragged them both toward the aqueduct. The three companions grabbed the slippery corners of the edifice as the water level continued to rise.

"What now?" Kyyis asked, spitting out water.

Talen looked down at Danae, who was still clutched at his side. Tentatively, he felt her presence brush against his mind.

"_Can you get us out of here?"_ he asked silently.

He large luminous eyes stared up at him and through his connection to her he could feel her cold and exhaustion. It startled and scared him to think that she could feel human weakness.

"_I can't, but you can."_ She answered silently.

"Talen I hate to tell you this, but if we don't find a way out soon we are going to drown or be struck by lightning!" Kyyis said shrilly.

"_How can I get us out?"_ Talen asked.

"_This place is a portal, but only you can open it. This place is part of your thread."_

"We have to move!" Kyyis shouted.

"_Stop talking in circles, Aphrael! Just tell me what I need to do."_

"_I am trying, Talen. This place responds to your will. You have to will the path to open." _

"Gods Talen! Are you even listening?" Kyyis said reaching out and grabbing Talen's arm and shaking him roughly.

"Stop it Kyyis!" Talen said shaking himself free. "I'm working on it!"

"_It's not working, Aphrael!"_ Talen sent his thought to the young woman clutched against him.

"_You have to focus your will, Talen. Try using the Secrets."_

The water levels now reached Talen's waist, and Danae was barely above water. He lifted her and pressed her between his body and the aqueduct wall, freeing his hands to make the gestures.

Talen turned and stared at the opening waiting for the flicker of the stone room to appear before he intoned the spell and shaped the accompanying gesture with his fingers.

The room stopped flickering and started to solidify. Kyyis let go of his hold on the wall and made his way into the dry room. Talen pulled the princess close and moved to enter the room as well.

Danae was wrenched from his arms. Startled, Talen whirled around. The river and rain had coalesced into the form of a massive giant with a gaping mouth and tentacle-like appendages. One of the tentacles held the squirming princess.

"Talen run! Please!" she screamed.

Talen looked up at the massive, water-formed monstrosity. His dagger was immediately in his hand.

"Let her go!" He shouted.

The water formed monster stared at him from two whirlpools that served as eyes.

"Who art thou to defy Anon?"

The monster blasted Talen with a power spray of water knocking the Knight backwards into the raging river.

Talen came up from the blast disoriented, but almost immediately got to his feet, adrenaline coursing through his veins, giving the young man almost inhuman strength. He brandished his dagger against the water-formed monstrosity who laughed at him. The sound was filled with gurgling.

"Thou art impertinent, thief of Epallus. Thy death is reserved for the favored of Anon. Come to the tower of bones if thou seeketh thy goddess. There thou wilt find thy demise!"

The monstrosity laughed its strange laugh again. To Talen's horror it began to form a funnel between water and sky, immersing Danae in the middle. Talen ran toward the funnel even as the powerful winds wrenched and threw him every which way.

The funneling whirlpool continued until suddenly it cleared, leaving nothing in sight. The rain ended abruptly and the sky clearly leaving only cerulean brilliance behind.

"Danae!" Talen cried, dropping to his knees in the calming river.

Nothing answered his call.


	18. Transverse

Author's Note: Hi back again! I am really trying to get this story updated faster! Thank you everyone for all the reviews and sticking with me. You guys are awesome!

Just a note, this chapter may be a bit confusing if you haven't read the intermission. I didn't call it a chapter because it was a short piece that pulled away from the main Sparhawk/Talen scenes. It precludes part 1 of this chapter.

I don't own anything from the Elenium/Tamuli books they belong to the late David and Leigh Eddings.

A Thief In Armor (Arc II)

Chapter 17: Transverse

**Part I.**

Kalten leaned forward on his elbows as he stood along the turrets overlooking the capital city of Cimmura. Bowing his head, he sighed despondently. The chronically intermittent drizzle of the city's overcast sky did nothing to improve the Knight's dour mood. The pale sky and voraciously grey clouds, however, did not even hold a candle to the Hades like landscape looming to Kalten's right.

The rain reminded Kalten of his only son, Eluen, lost beyond the border of the bizarre land. Being born in Cimmura, the young boy had always loved the rain. He would run outside, spinning around under the pouring water shrieking with glee. He would splash through puddles as if it was the most natural thing to do, his childish laughter filling the dreary afternoon as if it were the most beautiful day in the world.

Kalten never had the heart to scold his son for it, even though his good clothes inevitably would be soaked through. The battle-hardened Knight had even occasionally joined in his son's rain-drenched adventures, much to his wife's dismay. The thought brought a sad smile to Kalten's face.

""Sir Kalten?" A voice behind Kalten interrupted his melancholy reminisces. "Might I 'ave a word with ye, mate?"

The acting Earl of Lenda approached the hulking blonde knight, his fingers woven together and an enquiring expression coloring his features.

"Yes, Ensen, what do you want?" Worry had made Kalten short tempered with the other members of the counsel.

Ensen gave a short frustrated puff. "I apologize for bothering ye, but...before this…" he swept his hand outward and indicated the burning landscape to the west. "…before this I was investigating some shipment for Prince Sparhawk and…"

Kalten's nostrils flared and he turned suddenly from turrets favoring Ensen with a glare that could flay flesh from bone.

"I don't believe this is the time to discuss shipments, Ensen. These hell-on-earth abominations need all of our attention! I don't know if you have noticed with your head stuck in shipping reports, but this isn't the only one either. They are occurring all over Elenia! And my son…god my son..."

The urbane Earl had visibly paled under Kalten's tirade. He unwove his fingers and balled them into fists at his side. "Sir…" he said, staring at Kalten unflinchingly. "This is important…and I believe it has something to do with these strange lands appearing. Please mate, everyone is panicked and no one will listen to me."

With effort Kalten reined in his considerable temper. With calmness returning, he noticed the dark circles under Ensen's eyes and noticeable weight loss. The last few days hadn't been easy on the earl either. "Go ahead then, I'm listening." Kalen said grudgingly.

"Right! So I was investigating some suspect shipments to Sarsos which I pointed out to his Highness before he and the Queen left for Chyrellos. Neither of us could figure out why the districts were sending the shipments."

Kalten growled, urging Ensen to get to the point.

"I had pinpointed the exact locations from which each of these shipments to Sarsos came from, and I had thought to share them with Prince Sparhawk, but, alas, he had already left."

"What does this have to do with what's going on now? Possible smuggling may have been important before, but it's just not a priority now!" Kalten said, his anger returning.

"Please, mate!" Ensen held up his hands in a pleading gesture and continued on; braving Kalten's expression, which now rivaled the grey, overcast sky.

"When the first reports of the hell-split cities came in I thought it was only a coincidence…but after the sixth one yesterday, I am convinced there be a connection!"

"What coincidence?" Kalten asked, his heart starting to beat faster.

"All of the reported hell-rifts have occurred at the exact locations where the suspicious shipments were sent."

Kalten's eyes widened. "Show me!"

The sound of unrolling paper echoed in the brightly-lit counsel room. A large map of Elenia lay flat on the table. The multicolored map was scripted in thorough and accurate detail from its borders against Arcium, Deira, and the sweeping grasslands of Pelosia, to its coast off the Deiran Sea.

His arms folded, Kalten studied the map. Leaning on his cane beside him was Platime with a few of his thuggish underlings. Ensen leaned over the map studying it intently as he shuffled through the annual district report and his own copious notes. Otherwise the counsel room was empty.

"Here, mate." Ensen said leaning over the map. He circled Caliga, a small town at the edge of the District under the oversight of Lenda. "This was the first one I noticed," He explained. "It's practically in my backyard, so the wheat shipment was glaringly suspicious."

Ensen continued to circle various places. Kalten noticed a growing pattern. The more heavily populated cities, Lenda, Demos, Vardenais, had been excluded, instead nearby towns had been used for the shipments and as sites for the strange splits.

The capital city was a notable exception. A thought occurred to Kalten. "Ensen was there a corresponding shipment here in Cimmura as well?

Ensen looked up and nodded. "Already ahead of ye, mate. There was a shipment from a place called Rowen's. It was a craft shop and a shipment of dolls was sent to Sarsos. The shop is on our side of the split."

"The proprietor?" Kalten asked urgently.

Ensen huffed in disgust. "Vanished! I had some of my men go out and _request_ his presence, but he managed to give them the slip at the last minute. According to them he's a seedy-looking fellow called Narkese."

Platime, who had been listening, gave a short laugh. "Why don't you leave him to me? I'm sorta a professional when it comes to trapping rats."

Ensen frowned as skepticism crossed his face. "Ye welcome to try, mate. Buy my best men dinnea find a trace of the bastard."

Platime smiled grimly. "Sorry, Ensen but soldiers can be a bit conspicuous. Sometimes you need bait to catch a rat." He spun his ivory cane between his large, meaty hands and nodded to one of his underlings. "Let's see if we can locate our rat. Ensen, be so good as to tell my associate what he looks like."

True to his word, Platime's thugs produced the wanted man in record time. They carried the flailing man directly to Kalten.

Narkese was even more seedy-looking than Ensen described. Greasy dark hair was practically plastered to a florid face indicative of a hard drinker. His clothing, however were of an unusually good quality, though they were unable to disguise the generally poor hygiene of their wearer.

"Let me go right now! Please! Who ever is paying you ill pay double! Just let me go!" Narkese was screaming hysterically.

Platime sighed heavily and glanced quickly at one of the men holding the blubbering Narkese. "Make him be quiet will you?"

The ruffian calmly balled up his fist and smashed Narkese squarely in the jaw. Whimpering, the man immediate fell into a sullen silence.

"Was he _that _easy to find, mate?" Ensen asked, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

"In my experience, a man with a recent windfall often likes to celebrate…such a disreputable scoundrel would define 'celebrating' as drinking and wenching."

Ensen stared at him in perplexity.

"Ah…you might want to explain further, Platime," Kalten interrupted, "The earl's kind of new and doesn't really know that what you do in the palace is just a sideline for your real profession."

Platime laughed and brought one finger to his lips mockingly. "Quiet, sir Kalten!" The large man turned toward Ensen. "It's a state secret you understand; I actually know every tavern master and whore in the city on a first-name basis. It wasn't much trouble to call in a few favors."

Ensen's eyes widened and he looked over at Narkese. "What do you want to do with him, now?"

Platime had already issued instructions concerning the 'guest's' accommodations. Being an important part of the Queen's privy counsel, no one questioned the advisor's need for the dungeon. The city was on war footing, after all.

"Bring him to the cell adjoining the racks!" Platime announced.

Ensen blanched as he leaned in and whispered hoarsely. "Baron Platime, the racks and all forms of inhumane torture were outlawed when Queen Ehlana ascended to the throne!"

Platime grinned. "We know that, my good earl, but our friend doesn't seem to be up on the current events."

"Platime you're a very bad man." Kalten observed.

"Why thank you, sir Knight." The thief answered brushing a spec of dirt off of his doublet.

"I dinnae think that was meant as a compliment, mate." Ensen pointed out.

Narkese was unceremoniously dumped in the musty, dim cell and chained to the wall. There was a door to the side of the cell, but it offered no respite. Instead the edge of the gleaming rack could be seen waiting in silent anticipation.

"He's actually crying?" Kalten asked as he stared at the weeping prisoner.

"It seems so." Ensen said. He looked at Kalten in consternation. "He really isn't thinking of using that is he?"

"I think the threat is enough to get the information we want." He said as he walked with Ensen into the cell.

Kalten gave an imperceptible nod to Platime to begin. The Baron twirled his ivory cane around and approached the prisoner.

"Listen, you disgusting, sniveling piece of scum, because I'm only going to say this once. You _will_ tell me everything about the shipment of dolls to Sarsos…or we are going to put you on the rack next door. Understand?"

Narkese promptly fainted. Platime shot his underling a long-suffering look. The thug sauntered over to the chained Narkese and slapped him hard across the face.

"Do try to stay away, Narkese, old boy. We wouldn't want to use more creative means to keep you interested."

"Look, your excell…exce…excellency…I didn't know the man…" Narkese blubbered. "He just showed up one day with an offer for my dolls… he brought them back the next day and told me to ship it directly to Sarsos…"

"What did this guy look like?" Kalten asked.

"He was nothing out of the ordinary…but I think he drank quite a bit…"

Kalten folded his arms. "Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?"

"No-no, sire, even as much as I drink this one made me feel tipsy just from his smell!"

Kalten's brow furrowed. "It almost seems…"

Platime continued the interrogation. "What happened after he paid you?

"I packaged up the dolls. They had some strange thread wrapped around them, all glowing like…" Narkese added.

"Is there anything else you remember? A little thread won't be enough to spare you from the rack…" Playtime said ominously.

"Th..there was a woman with him. I think she was the one who put the thread on…she was really strange she was speaking to him in Styric…I think…and she had the oddest…"

Suddenly, Narkese began to gasp and his hands went to his throat as he began hyperventilating. His lips turned blue and within seconds he went rigid and slumped forward.

"Damn!" shouted Kalten.

It was happening all over again.

**Part II.**

The sunlight was blinding after the endless trek across the barren, inferno-skied world behind them. Sparhawk blinked rapidly as his eyes painfully adjusted to the burning sun.

The Pandion's heart constricted as he gazed once again on the cerulean blue expanse overhead and open grasslands that extended in the distance. As sure as he knew his heart was beating, he was certain he stood on Elenian soil.

"God am I glad to see the sky again!" He said with an explosive breath. His companion, the pale-eyed man he met in the inferno-skied wasteland, had not stopped to admire the scenery. His midnight cloak billowing, he moved westward at his unhurried, ground eating pace.

Sparhawk trotted to catch up with him. He immediately felt the exertion begin to make his muscles burn. With a start, he realized for the first time since waking up in the wasteland he felt _substantial_. Hunger gnawed at his stomach along with an almost overpowering thirst. Strangely, hunger, thirst, and a need to rest had not bothered him as he wandered the wastelands.

Though it had seemed as if he had been traveling for weeks, Sparhawk did not remember even once having slept. Another sharp pang in his stomach scattered the Pandion's thoughts. He needed food and water. Soon.

"Friend, do you know where your heading?" Sparhawk called ahead to his pale-eyed companion.

The man turned and looked at Sparhawk gravely. The Pandion was struck by how out of place his companion looked here in the expansive grasslands. His dark cloak continued to wave despite the lack of wind. In addition, his entire figure seemed to be a striking contrast to his surroundings, more vibrant and magnetic.

"Look for thyself, Anakha." The cloaked man pointed in the direction he was walking.

Sparhawk squinted against the sun, shading his brow with his hand. In the distance he could see a large host of men milling around. It was too distant to tell for sure, but Sparhawk was fairly certain that at least some of the men were other Pandion Knights. The black armor was fairly distinctive to the order.

Grinning, the Pandion champion broke into a sprint, ignoring the burning in his muscles. Evidently someone had spotted him. A lone rider detached from the host and flew toward them. Winded, Sparhawk slowed to a walk as he waited for the rider to approach. He gripped the hilt of his sword hopeful that he would have no use for it.

The sun's glare burned in his eyes making the approaching figure hazy and indistinct. The longtime Knight however still recognized the bearing of Kurik's fastest son.

"Ho Rhamik!" Sparhawk called waving.

Though it seemed impossible, the rider accelerated, seeming to barely touch the ground in his haste. Sparhawk jogged to meet him but a sudden stitch in his side made him stop and bend over double.

"Sir Sparhawk!" Rhamik called as he drew closer. "My Prince, are you alright?" he finally made it to the wheezing Champion and dismounted from his horse. The movement was as smooth and fluid as pouring water.

Sparhawk held up a hand to Rhamik. "Just give me a moment to catch my breath, Rhamik."

"Where in the world have you been, my Lord? We sent scouting parties everywhere to look for you!"

Sparhawk straightened with effort. "I was…I can't really explain where I was."

"Old age seems to be getting to you, Sparhawk." Rhamik observed.

The Pandion Champion gave Rhamik an unfriendly stare.

"Do you need any help getting to the encampment my Prince?" Rhamik asked, solicitously taking Spahawk's elbow.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Sparhawk said shaking free.

"I was just trying to help!" Rhamik explained with mock innocence. Sparhawk's mouth thinned.

"You know, Prince Sparhawk they say people become bad-tempered when they get old…along with stubborn and mulish." Rhamik pointed out.

"I think that's about enough, Rhamik."

"…sure thing gramps." Rhamik muttered under his breath.

"I heard that, Rhamik."

"They also say hearing things is a sign of approaching senility."

Sparhawk sighed. "Why me?"

Rhamik suddenly seemed to notice Sparhawk's pale-eyed companion. "Who's your friend Prince Sparhawk?"

"He didn't give me his name, but he got me out of a tight situation." Sparhawk replied.

The man in the billowing cloak folded his hands inside his cloak and addressed Rhamik. "My son, make haste. Thy comrades seek folly. Any who entreat the Burning Wastes will surely perish."

Rhamik looked to Sparhawk. "I'm assuming you can translate that?"

"What are you planning to do?" asked Sparhawk.

"Well, we were planning on riding into that hell burning over there. We need to get to Chyrellos, remember?" Rhamik replied.

Sparhawk had been wandering in the wasteland so long he didn't notice that it was also burning at the edge of the horizon. "Is that true? Will they die if the go in there?" Sparhawk asked turning to his pale-eyed companion.

"It is of a certainty. Thy realm is not for mortals. Only death awaiteth." The strange man answered quietly.

"Who's leading?" Sparhawk asked Rhamik urgently.

"Preceptor Komier, sir."

Sparhawk reached out and gripped the young man's shoulder hard enough to make him wince. "Listen to me Rhamik! You must get to Komier and tell him to fall back. Anyone who goes into that place will not come out!"

"Sire, I don't understand!"

"Just do as you're told! Go! Quickly!" Sparhawk warned.

Rhamik turned and mounted his horse as smoothly as he had dismounted. Immediately he was off, faster than the wind as he flew back down the plan. The urgency of his companion's warning had fired Sparhawk enough to keep him walking as he followed in Rhamik's wake to meet the host of Pandions and Genidians.

**Part III.**

Talen stared at the clearing sky in total shock.

Gone…Danae was gone…

…and _he_ let her get captured! He was a Knight, sworn to Church and Crown and he failed to protect the sole heir to the Elenian throne.

Talen unleashed every curse, complaint, and vile epithet he knew and then started back at the beginning. He waded through the overflowing stream to the nearby aqueduct and leaned against it as the water gradually receded to its previous depths.

To his abject despair, the clouds were dispersing, thinning to wisps giving the brilliant sun free reign to shine on the rising aqueducts. The sky was a gorgeous cacophony of indigo and violet, but Talen didn't notice as he continued to stand, shell-shocked.

A splash and sharp jerk on his shoulder final caused Talen to inhale. Kyyis was shaking him hard. "What the hell happened? That archway door thing isn't really stable I couldn't get back here and…"

Kyyis stopped his explanation abruptly as he looked Talen full on in the face. "Talen…" he said slowly. "…what's wrong with you?" he let go of his brother and backed away.

"Where…where is princess Danae?" He said looking around.

"The Tower of Bones…" Talen breathed.

"What?" Kyyis asked.

"It took her to Anon's tower!" Talen explained, his voice shaking.

"Where is that? And who's Anon?"

"Never mind." Talen said, his jaw clenching. "What's beyond the archway?" he asked.

"Somewhere near the Basilica, best I can tell," Kyyis answered. "But that door goes in and out. If you can see the other side though, I think you can get through."

"Come on then!" Talen said as he trudged out of the water.

"Where are we going?" Kyyis called out. "The Basilica is that way!"

"We're not going to Chyrellos." Talen answered.

"Where are we going then? And how are we going to get there?" Kyyis said huffing to keep up as Talen broke into a sprint along the shores of the river.

"We have to get to Sarsos! I need to speak with the Thousand!" Talen said; his plan clarifying as he continued to run.

"God! Talen, slow down!" Kyyis caught up with his racing brother and grabbed him. "Please can you stop for a moment? What's going on? Why Sarsos? Why are we running?"

Talen clenched his fists. "I don't have time for long explanations, Kyyis! Some mad elder god has princess Danae. I need to find out where Anon's tower is before she gets hurt. I know what I'm doing Kyyis, this place...it's…it's…mine. I don't know how to explain it. You just have to trust me! We have to hurry!"

Kyyis looked at his brother hard and nodded subtly. Talen turned back and continued to sprint. Once he figured out that the first aqueduct was a portal, he realized that they were _all_ portals. For some reason what his father said in the dream finally clicked with him. This strange land was tied to Talen somehow. He could feel the pull of the right aqueduct and headed toward it.

After running past half a dozen of the aqueducts Talen finally slowed. "Here!" he said gesturing to Kyyis. Similar to the other one, the entrance flickered at once showing the calm river and then changing to the marble covered city of Sarsos.

Talen studied the flickering and attempted to focus his will, but his concern for Danae kept scrambling his concentration. Sighing he tried the Secrets; instead of requesting divine assistance his poured his will into his gesture to open.

To Talen's relief the image inside the aqueduct settled and Talen and Kyyis rushed to step through.


	19. Showdown

Author's Note: Well here is the next chapter, since I can't seem to get myself to update as often, I will simply apologize. This second arc is nearing its conclusion. There will probably be two more chapters until I move to the third and final arc. Thank you for reading, I really am trying to update this, but I definitely need inspiration.

As always, I own nothing from the Elenium and Tamuli series, that is strictly the property of David and Leigh Eddings.

Enough chatter, on to the story!

* * *

A Thief In Armor

(Arc 2)

Chapter 18: Showdown

* * *

Part 1.

The heart of Styricdom fairly glittered against the horizon. The descending sun bathed the white city in hues of varicolored light making her seem more a hazy, heavenly realm of rainbows than a city where people did such mundane things as work, sleep, take and loose water.

Sarsos. Her marble-sheathed edifices saluted a time both present and antique. On the surface it was as it always was; a flourishing, graceful place that echoed the soul of her children. However, the air was heavy with an unseen malevolence. It caused the hairs on the back on Talen's neck to stiffen. Something here was fundamentally wrong, something preying just below the surface.

Talen shielded his eyes as he attempted to figure out where he had emerged. Looking around he suddenly caught the alarmed and fearful stares pointed in his direction.

"Hey you! Outsiders! Where did you come from?" A voice in the gathering crowd shouted in Styric. Angry and frightened murmurings began to issue from the rapidly swelling mob.

Talen grabbed a dazed Kyyis by the arm and fled. Angry protests followed him, but the agile thief-Knight was thoroughly experienced in making quick escapes. Almost immediately he lost his pursuers as he wheeled around corners and down side paths. Just to be on the safe side, he smoothly slid and twisted down several more narrow lanes and alleys, leaning finally against a large building concealed by the shadows cast by the overhang above.

Kyyis plopped to the ground breathing heavily. "Whew! Do you think we lost them?"

"For now," Talen answered checking around to make sure no one had followed them. "I'll definitely need to find a less conspicuous way to do that next time." He observed passing a hand across his forehead wiping away the accumulated perspiration.

"Next time?" Kyyis exclaimed. "What the hell, Talen? I never want to do that again!"

Talen laughed ruefully. "Never say never, Kyyis. It's a long walk back to Demos."

"Why me?" Kyyis sighed, cupping his face in his hands and giving Talen a look of pure, unadulterated misery.

Talen grinned impishly and peered around the building. "Come on we're close!" He said, gesturing to his brother. "Keep your head down and for the love of god let me do the talking! Your Styric sounds worse than a drunken cow whose mouth is stuffed full of sod."

"You know, Talen, you can be very offensive. My Styric is not _that_ bad." Kyyis pointed out in an injured tone.

Talen ignored him and carefully walked out into the street, his pace unhurried, his expression nonchalant. During his flight he had only been focused on removing himself and his brother from danger. Even then, in the back of his mind he knew Sarsos had changed since he'd last been there.

For one, he saw no individual citizens, instead the inhabitants gathered in groups of three or four seeming to huddle together for protection. Second, there seemed to be no Atans, even though there was supposed to be a garrison here, as in all the countries of the Tamul Empire. In fact, Talen saw no outsiders whatsoever.

The increasingly nervous young man immediately sought out concealment. He and Kyyis had forgone their armor before the search of Listrange's tomb. Talen was of two minds about that, the armor would have caused him to stand out, here in Sarsos. On the other hand, he had to admit he missed the protection and the invincible feeling he had when encased in steel.

It certainly would have helped when he had been chased by dead clergy in the tombs. The Pandion could not get a handle on how much could change in a single night. His arrival in Chyrellos two days previous seemed a lifetime ago.

"Where are we going, anyway?" Kyyis hissed. Talen didn't answer him, instead pointing ahead to an elegant-looking building covered, like the rest of Sarsos, in snowy marble. As the two Knights neared it, he went around the side of the palatial residence, wracking his memory for the back entrance.

It had been at least ten years since Talen had been to Sarsos, the Styric capital and where the Thousand convened to meet. He leaned against the wall and focused back to the last time he had been here.

Vanion, the former Pandion Preceptor had been injured. Talen remembered that he had been lying down. The location of the back entrance immediately returned to his memory and Talen led his brother quietly to it. It was well concealed as it was located behind a fountain, but the thief had no trouble finding it.

As Talen suspected, the lock was barely a challenge, though the enchantment laid on it was fairly convoluted.

Kyyis' eyes widened as they entered the residence, which was well-lit from the overhead sky-lights built into the ceiling. "Talen, where are we? Who lives here?" He asked.

A flare of brightness brought the room into greater illumination as Talen finished lighting one of the mounted candles. The residence was lovely, large and open with splashes of vibrant tapestries and mounted oil paintings. The décor was spare giving the room a feel of vastness.

"Oh, it's just a little place Sephrenia and Vanion like to call home." Talen replied lightly. "You should be able to re-provision us fairly quickly…"

"Hold on, Talen. You're assuming a lot here. We can't just steal from a former Preceptor and a Styric high priestess!" Kyyis said, incredulous.

"Stop being so priggish, Kyyis. I'm sure our little mother won't mind us borrowing a few things. We are serving a greater cause." Talen said, locating a loaf of bread and biting into it. He split it and tossed the other half to his brother.

Kyyis hesitated briefly before tearing into the loaf hungrily. His protests momentarily silenced, Talen headed further into the residence, casually rifling through owner's possessions.

He soon found what he was looking for, a long, shimmering, forest-green cloak that was deeply hooded. He pulled it on, satisfied with its fit. He called instructions back to Kyyis as he further explored various rooms.

"They keep all the foodstuffs in the cellar. There's a staircase down the hall on your right. Get as much as we can carry."

Talen stopped at a row of dorm-like bedrooms and peeked inside. A quick investigation turned up another green cloak. Across from one of the beds was a workbench with several corked bottles. He filched them all and headed back to where Kyyis was finishing his bread. He handed a confused looking Kyyis the cloak. "Why aren't you getting the food?" Talen asked.

"You obviously know this place, why am I getting all the supplies?" Kyyis asked as both Knights headed down the hallway toward the cellar.

Talen frowned and began patting his shirt. "I told you I have to see the Thousand." He replied absently. Finally he fished the ancient book out of his lapel. "Here." He said handing it to Kyyis.

"What is this?" his brother asked examining the ancient tome.

"One of the two ciphers, apparently."

Kyyis' eyebrows shot up as he opened the book and began examining it.

"Don't bother." Talen offered. "It's an ancient version of Styric. We'll probably need Sephrenia to translate it."

Kyyis continued to look at the book. "Sephrenia? Why don't we get Flute to translate it? She was around when it was written, right... Talen what is it?"

Talen's face had gone pale at the mention of Flute. He didn't answer right away, but instead looked down.

"Talen?" Kyyis asked again.

"I have to go _now_. Get whatever you can ready…" he said as he changed directions to return to the entrance. "If I'm not back by dawn, take the cipher and get as far away from Sarsos as possible."

He turned back to Kyyis who was staring at him stunned. "Talen…you're not going to challenge the Thousand are you?" he asked.

Talen balled his fists at his side. "I don't have a choice. I don't have enough time to chase down a flighty Styric priest. The best chance I have to find out about Anon's tower quickly is the Thousand."

"By yourself?" Kyyis asked. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but Sarsos is feeling a little hostile toward foreigners, and our only ally is a whole continent away. What if something happens to you?" he continued.

"I have to take that chance, Kyyis. This 'Anon' has our Princess, the only heir to the Elenian throne! Just promise me if I don't come back that you get the cipher out of here. Get it to Prince Sparhawk."

Kyyis looked at Talen helplessly.

"Kyyis, do you understand?" He asked, grabbing his brother roughly by the shoulders.

His brother nodded grimly as he studied Talen's feverish eyes and pale face. "Talen, don't get killed alright?"

Talen turned and left, leaving Kyyis unanswered.

* * *

Part II

"Where are they?" Queen Ehlana asked. "They have been gone almost two days now!" The beautiful blonde queen paced up and down the chambers set aside for her use muttering angrily.

Candlelight sconces lit the chamber brightly, illuminating the richly appointed room. Heavy carpets and tapestries threaded with crimson and gold attested to the importance of the guest quartered there.

"Are you certain Danae went with Talen?" she asked a young lady who had been attending the missing princess. The girl nodded vigorously, her face pale under the Queen's scrutiny.

The worried mother continued to pace. "When I get my hand on that young lady…"

"Ehlana, please calm yourself." Dolmant said quietly.

The Queen stopped and fixed the Archprelate with a deathly stare. "My only child has vanished into thin air!" she said just as quietly. "She has been missing for almost two days now!"

Dolmant held up a hand. "Hardly thin air, your Majesty. Several witnesses have seen your daughter in the company of Sirs Talen and Kyyis. Surely she is safe with the protection of _two_ trained Knights of the Pandion order."

Ehlana sighed, some of the wind going out of her sails. "Yes, my dear, dear Dolmant. But that was two nights ago!" she said her voice shaking. "What if something happened…to all of them? Kyyis, and Talen…they are so young, still children really…"

Dolmant felt a small smile play at the corner of his mouth. The Queen truly had the heart of a mother, Kurik's sons had grown up years ago, but to the Elenian Queen they would always be boys.

The aging Archprelate stood and walked to where Ehlana stood, her arms wrapped around herself in helpless worry. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders.

"Ehlana please remember those crypts are quite extensive. They run underground beyond this Basilica, into the city proper. It will take time for them to find what they are looking for. Have hope; they will return, I know it."

Ehlana nodded slightly, tears gathering in her eyes. The emotions she normally kept in check threatening to overwhelm her. "It is already hard enough with these horrific abominations I see outside, and no word from my Sparhawk in ages…now my only child vanished! I can't bear it!" She drew back from the Archprelate and wandered over to the window, sighing disconsolately as she studied the barren landscape looming outside.

A wall of fire surrounded Chyrellos in a semi-circle obscuring anything beyond the city from the direction of Elenia. Ehlana leaned her head against the window and sent up a silent prayer that her husband and daughter would return to her safely.

There was a loud rapping on the door and the young Queen looked up and gestured for her guard to allow access. Sir Bevier led a small group into the room; including Berit and Olet. Ehlana also recognized the Cyrinic's tutor, Sephrenia's young doppelganger. Ehlana could not recall her name though she remembered the young lady fainting. She appeared to be feeling better, though still a bit pale.

"Has there been any news on where princess Danae is?" Berit asked.

Ehlana shook her head mutely, not trusting herself to speak. Olet came over and wrapped her arm around the Queen. She and Berit's red-haired fiancée were very close. "Do not concern yourself my lady; I am certain your daughter is quite safe."

At that moment, Ehlana caught the Cyrinic tutor draw her brows and clamp her hands together tightly. For some reason the worried gesture made the Queen's stomach flip. The dark haired woman looked up catching Ehlana's gaze. The woman who so closely resembled Sephrenia attempted a smile.

"We are all praying for the safe return of your daughter, your Majesty." The woman said fervently.

Y'phira. Ehlana suddenly recalled the young woman's name. For some reason Y'phira seemed just as worried about Danae as Ehlana herself. Ehlana laboriously summoned a smile to return. "I hope your feeling better, lady Y'phira?"

The young woman blushed. "Yes thank you, your Majesty. I'm sorry for troubling you all."

"Now, now, none of that!" Ehlana said, waving her hand and smiling genuinely. "It wasn't any trouble at all I'm just glad you're all right. And _please_ call me Ehlana in private, 'your Majesty this, your Majesty that…becomes tiresome after awhile."

That pulled a gentle laugh from Y'phira, and with a sudden realization Ehlana found she absolutely adored the sweet-natured young woman. Just as suddenly the Queen realized that she wasn't the only one. Sir Bevier's riveted gaze was glued to his young tutor and the sound of his laugh had an undeniable effect on him.

She exchanged a wink with Olet, whose lavender eyes sparkled with mischief. There would definitely be plans for the Cyrinic preceptor.

Several hours later, Dolmant had left, along with his retinue. Ehlana dismissed her maids and seated herself across from the lovely, luxurious vanity that had been provided with her rooms. The candles and sconces began to burn lower as evening approached. The lonely Queen picked up one of her favorite combs, a gift from Sparhawk, and began pulling it through her long, pale hair.

Studying her reflection as she drew the comb down her locks, she noticed dark circles under her eyes and the lines of worry around her mouth. If her husband were here he would have drawn her into his arms and commanded her to relax until she was rested. As it was, she was barely able to sleep more than an hour at a time.

While worry and loneliness for her husband and daughter kept her awake well into the night, sleep offered no respite. Ehlana's dreams were haunted by inferno hued skies, barren landscapes and nightmares of Sparhawk falling through bones and darkness, reaching and calling for her. She could never get close enough to him. She had awakened with tears in her eyes, sobbing for her beloved.

The slow and hypnotic combing of her hair, coupled with her exhaustion and lack of sleep was having a strange effect on Ehlana. As she sleepily studied her mirror her room appeared to darken. Oddly enough, she felt as if she were not alone. Tipping her head to one side she could see a figure standing behind her. Turning around she glanced at her chamber which was empty.

Assuming her mind was playing tricks on her, the pale Queen returned to her mirror and the figure was gone. She picked up her comb again.

It could have been minutes or hours later, but most of the candles had gone out save one. Ehlana could feel the comb continuing to be drawn through her hair. In a strange, bemused reverie, the Queen realized that she was no longer the one combing her hair. She looked up into the mirror where a woman continued to gently pull her silver comb through Ehlana's gleaming locks.

The single candle revealed a ravishing young woman, as dark as Ehlana was fair.

"Who are you?" she asked the young woman.

"There are some who call me Lillias, your Majesty," her voice a seductive purr.

The name seemed familiar to Ehlana, but somehow she could not place it. "Why are you in my chambers, Lillias? Who let you in?"

She felt the stirrings of alarm, but somehow her body seemed to not respond to her urgency. The woman continued to comb her hair, ignoring Ehlana's questions.

"What do you want with me?" Ehlana persisted. The woman smiled as she continued to pull the comb through Ehlana's hair, and finally deigned to answer.

"I came to take you on a little excursion, little queen, there's someone who wants to see you."

Ehlana found herself rising from her seated position as alarm spread to full-fledged panic. She could no longer control her own movements. The queen obediently followed Lillias to the entrance of her chamber. Outside the door, Ehlana's guards lay slumped, their still, unmoving bodies sending a shock of grief and fear through her.

Ehlana fought to resist the compulsion on her body as she followed Lillias down the winding staircases of the Basilica. However much she tried to scream, shout, or even stop her footsteps, she invariably remained silent and mobile.

The two women exited, walking past guards talking quietly on the third watch. None seemed aware that the Elenian Queen was wandering away from the Basilica escorted only by a dark-haired intruder. Despair and rage bubbled up as Lillias turned and smiled at her. "We are almost there, little queen." She whispered maliciously.

To Ehlana's growing horror, they were headed directly to the barren, inferno-hued landscape that had appeared two days ago. The Queen had heard reports that anyone who stepped into that place was utterly, and completely lost, never to be heard from. The other half of Chyrellos had been completely engulfed by it.

Tears began to slide down the pale woman's face as her feet continued to eat the distance between her and hell.

As her foot crossed the threshold between realities, her last though was of her beloved Sparhawk.

* * *

Part 3.

The pure, pristine pillars loomed above Talen, at least ten times his height. The Hall where the counsel met was an immense, imposing, monstrosity of an edifice. Talen privately reasoned that it was at least a little bit of posturing on the part of the Thousand. Though, to be fair, there was an incredible amount of ego that had to fit into one building. Viewed though that lens, the hall might be considered downright modest.

Talen quirked up a corner of his mouth, but his eyes were wary. Whatever the reason, he couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated. Still, he had a princess to save, even if that princess was theoretically an invincible goddess. He just didn't trust Danae to keep herself out of trouble.

Squaring his shoulders he quickly climbed the stairs to the structure, wasting no time. His body eclipsed the sun's nearly complete rotation, his long shadow a lone figure against the slanting, burnished rays.

Talen's boots lightly echoed in the spacious hall leading to the open air amphitheater where the Counsel met. For the second time that day he wished he had brought his armor. As Talen drew closer he could hear voices drifting back to him, snippets of intense conversation teasing his awareness.

Talen realized conversation may have been too mild of a word. Because of the largeness of the structure and it echoes, the discussions going one were both augmented and distorted, making it difficult for Talen to comprehend what was going on, not to mention every thing said was in Styric. Despite the fact that he couldn't understand exactly what was being said, he did know from the inflections, loudness and overall air of hostility that there was some serious arguing going on.

A set of large doors stood shut, the meeting room beyond. Under normal circumstances, Talen would have hung back, picking up information about what was going on and figure out how he could use it to his advantage.

However, these were not normal circumstances.

With a muttered word and quick gesture the solid granite doors exploded open, ripping off their hinges and leaving a spattering of crumbling rock. The arguing and conversation stopped abruptly and every head turned toward what had formerly been the entrance to the Thousand's convention.

Talen strode in unhurried, hands stuffed in his pockets with an insolent smirk on his face.

"Hullo, ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry to interrupt your session, but I require some information," Talen said as he cavalierly headed toward the center of the chamber. A dark-haired, dark-eyed woman stood at the podium, staring at him in certain shock that was rapidly turning into cold fury.

Talen felt a chill of unease; the woman didn't look quite sane. For one, her eyes seem to burn with a fire all their own, and they were very, very dark. "Who dares interrupt the assemblage of the High Counsel of the Thousand?" she thundered in powerful, seemingly inhuman shout.

Talen blithely ignored her and turned to the Thousand gathered. A general murmuring had begun since Talen had blasted the doors. "I'm looking for Anon's tower." He said directly. "If someone can point me in the right direction, I'll be happy to let you get back to your little squabble."

All the murmuring immediately ceased as an ominous silence filled the hall. The gathered priests immediately made warding signs and shrank back. An older man with salt and pepper hair finally stood. "Young man, that name must never be spoken; it is forbidden!"

"Fine, but can anyone tell me where his tower is" Talen said, growing more anxious. This was not going the way he intended. Not to mention that he felt the gaze of the burning-eyed woman behind him and it made his skin crawl.

The older man wrung his hands. His eyes were a peaceful gray, but his face was drawn in a worrisome frown. "It is the stuff of antiquity and legend, my son; no one has laid eyes on the Tower of Bones for centuries. It was destroyed along with the Three."

"If it was supposedly destroyed," Talen interrupted, "Why did I get a direct invitation from one of Anon's minions?" There was a collective gasp as Talen rushed on "He has taken one of your goddesses hostage, you must help me!"

The older man's eyes widened. "Our goddess? Who? What has happened? Explain yourself young man."

"ENOUGH!" A powerful and terrible voice thundered.

Talen whirled around. The woman who had been staring at him now commanded the room.

She walked toward Talen menacingly, he dark eyes reminding Talen of the bowels of hell. "We do not entertain lapdogs of the Traitor." She said softly. Talen felt himself lifting off the ground. Was she using the Secrets?

"Shendar, stop immediately! This is not our way!" The older man protested reaching out a hand to counter the power lifting Talen.

"You forget yourself, Elatat, _I _am Over-priestess! This vermin is an enemy of all Styricdom. He is a lackey of our greatest foe!"

There were dynamics at work that Talen didn't understand. However, one thing he did know. Shendar would not stop until she destroyed him, he could feel the tension of her enchantments and see the deadly intention in her eyes.

He muttered a counter-spell and gestured quickly. Suddenly, Shendar went flying backwards as her powerful magic recoiled in her face.

The Counsel erupted.

Suddenly a Thousand high priests and priestess turned on him. The air thickened with the potential of magic about to be unleashed. The seconds slowed to Talen's echoing heartbeat as he counted down the last moments of his life.

…thump. Maybe he should have been a bit more diplomatic…

…thump. He hoped that Kyyis would do as he was told and get the cipher to Sparhawk. Perhaps the Elenian Prince would be able to put the rest of the pieces together…

…thump. He would really miss his mothers and brothers…Berit and Sparhawk and Ehlana…

…thump. And Danae. Oh god, Danae…he had never…

The first spell came flying and Talen used his talent to brush it aside. The second and third he was able to counter with a general shield, but the next slew broke through the rest of his defenses and pounded into his with the force of a gale. Talen felt himself falling as his knees crumbled beneath him. The sound around him was deafening and his ears were ringing. He struggled to look up, hoping for a last view of the sky before his final breath. A pinpoint of light above caught his attention. Was this death, come for him at last?

The point of light exploded, and everything went white.


End file.
